To Exist
by XoxStrifexoX
Summary: He simply accepted his life for what it was and what it wasn't; what it could and could not be. He accepted that he was a teenager who lived through unfortunate events. He just simply accepted that he was Eren Jaegar and he was alive and he existed, nothing more, nothing less. * RIREN YAOI BOYXBOY
1. Chapter 1

The room is quiet, almost too quiet, save for the occasional clank of the ceiling fan and the sound of its nearly muted motor whirling. The plain white walls are almost too bright for his eyes as the sun peering through the window reflects against its surface. The rays of light exposing the specs of floating dust through the air. The room itself bare other than the two single beds pushed against the left and right walls, and the long 12 drawer dresser shoved under the window between them. No pictures of any sort are found in the room, only the thin layer of settled dust against the dressers surface. The bed opposite to his had been stripped of its sheets and pillow, the old box frame exposed, and under it a collection of stray hairs and whatever else made up the dust balls neglected from the previous sweeping. He had the room to himself again. At least until they found someone else needy enough to occupy it. His last roommate Armin, a short blonde who was shy but pleasant and got along well with him, had finally been granted his release into his grandfather's custody. It seemed his was a temporary stay from the beginning. Just long enough to supply him shelter till they found a relative willing to take care of the boy after his parent's untimely death. In that short amount of time the boy had grown on him, and for a short time the sparsely decorated room had a small collection of treasured belongings he grew fond of. There was a book in particular, old and worn binding, pages that felt thin enough to rip if you weren't careful enough when turning the page, and a soft scent of old ink and a musk he couldn't quite place. The book had stories of all these wondrous adventures. Travels across the sea, mountains and valleys; the people and cultures and various animals and ecosystems. Things he could never hope to see with his own eyes, not someone in his situation anyway. He laid on his bed, sheets bundled mess at his feet, knees bent, back flat and arms above his head as he watches the fan blades with a heavy sigh. There was no sense thinking about it really. It had been exciting to learn of all these new things. Someone like him who lived a life deprived of many naturally occurring events for normal children hadn't really been previewed to that type of knowledge. Ever since he had been brought to stay in this place, a definite improvement over his previous living conditions but regardless he still remained ignorant to most things.

The home he stayed at was somewhat like a shelter for children who couldn't live on their own or had no one to care for them, sometimes a temporarily roof over their heads until their families got their shit together or like in Armin's case waiting for a guardian to make the necessary arrangements to claim them. Armin was lucky in the sense that it was only a matter of time, not everyone here had that luxury, he certainly didn't and he knew quite a few too that were just as shit out of luck as himself. Whether they had no family to claim or care for them, victims of abuse, abandonment, illnesses, and a long laundry list of possibilities in between, they ended up here. Maybe for a few weeks, maybe months, even years. He himself had been here for six years now, admitted to the homes care at a ten. Six years flew by and he learned so much in that short amount of time. How to read and how to write and how to speak properly. What little he knew before he arrived he knew only because of his mother. His mother, he tried to remember her, tried so many times and tried so hard he would grind his teeth and squeeze his eyes so tight to will a clear image of her back from the depths of his memories. All he could remember is her hair was lighter than his, the exact shade lost along with the details of her face and the warm expressions he knew she had made, knew but couldn't place them anymore. He couldn't remember her smell, he couldn't remember her voice, nor her laugh, her smile, he couldn't remember her touch and how it felt for her to sooth him when he cried or felt frightened. How many years did it take to lose all those memories? How long ago was it when he woke to another day and couldn't recall a single specific fucking thing about the only one he loved and whom loved him in his entire life? He couldn't even remember what how he reacted when he came to that exact realization. That every memory of her that he held dear, that kept him stable had so easily slipped away as if it were only a dream. He wondered if he cried and when he cried if he cried harder at the loss of her hand in his hair to sooth him and even harder when he realized he couldn't remember how it felt to have that simple interaction.

Was it before or after his father locked him away in that dark and damp molded basement? Did the sound of her voice escape him before or after he memorized each creaking pattern of the hard wood and ceramic tiled floors over head? Was it around the time he lost the taste of her warm meals and was instead grown accustomed to leftover scraps tossed down the dirty steps? When? When was it that the loving memories of his mother were chased away until he was left with only his enraged father? When had it been that his father completely lost it exactly? It was a quick but gradual transformation that much he knew, but it wasn't clear anymore when the sight of him was too much for his father to bear. At least the only peace he was granted from his father during those times was when his father told him he had his mother's hazel eyes. So alike that staring at him was like looking into the eyes of his deceased wife, so much so did they haunt him that he locked his own son away without a hint of remorse. He had her eyes, he had a piece of her that wouldn't rot away, he had something tangible that could grant him the relief that she would never be completely lost over time.

Even granted that reprieve he didn't have any way to even see his own eyes. There were no mirrors or reflective surfaces where he was kept, the windows were cracked and filthy, and so little light made its way into the dark area that it wouldn't have made much of a difference either way. It wasn't until he was brought here that he first saw his eyes in the mirror as he stripped him down and scrubbed him clean, too weak to do so himself. Despite how frail he was at the time he used every ounce of strength his bones and thinned muscles would allow to get closer. He needed to see them. He needed to look directly at his reflection and stare long and hard at his own eyes. He needed to with every fiber in his body to see the one thing he shared with the woman whom he used to know so well. He needed to see her.

His first year in this place he spent most of his days in front of the restroom mirror. The bathroom at this facility wasn't a private one, so no one ever really bothered him unless it was time for activities or mandated therapy sessions. He didn't care that the small inch by inch tiles were cold and hard under his feet. He couldn't care less that the faucets dripped, or the pungent smell of urine and shit from the stalls lining the wall that stung his nostrils as it polluted the air in the bathroom. Even in the less than appealing atmosphere it became his favorite place in the home. Time burned away as he would stare and reach to touch the glass longing to reach out to her. Sometimes when his eyes hurt or burned from staring to long he would close them and lean his head against the cold surface wishing instead it was her shoulder, imagining how it would feel in contrast. Was the bone sharp or was her shoulder plump enough that it were soft? How warm was it? Would it be warm through the fabric or would it remain cool to the touch?

The second year he spent less time wondering what it was like and more time questioning why she was gone, why his father went mad, why his childhood was taken from him, why he was here in this place.  
The third year had passed and he found his questions less mystified and more aggressive. He found himself growing angrier and resentful. He spent even less time in the mirror as he felt as time went on that it was his mother's fault for leaving him alone. It was her fault for his father's collapse in sanity. It was her fault he was here.

The fourth year and he avoided the mirror at all costs feeling disgusted and aggravated every time he met his own eyes in the glass.

The following year he had a breakdown. His anger redirected at himself over how childish he felt blaming the one person who had loved him. The only person who truly granted him adoration and affection. He had at some time during the night, after feeling restless and unable to sleep, in front of the mirror cursing, sobbing, and finally panicking. The only thing he really recalled that night was how his breath became short to the point he couldn't breathe. He had hyperventilated and at some point during the episode began beating his fist into his mirrored reflection until he felt hands grabbing him and pulling him away from it. He didn't remember anyone entering nor did he remember what happened after they tore him away from what was left of the mirror on the wall. He did remember, however, how much of a bitch to live with a busted hand for the next couple months.

This year, his sixth year, he was docile. He simply woke up one day to feeling quite apathetic. He still wondered, still tried to recall things, but when he came up empty he didn't have the same buildup of despair, rage, or the feeling of injustice. He simply accepted his life for what it was and what it wasn't; what it could and could not be. He accepted that he was a teenager who lived through unfortunate events. He just simply accepted that he was Eren Jaegar and he was alive and he existed, nothing more, nothing less.


	2. Chapter 2

A soft knock at his door and a firm reminder that breakfast would be served shortly roused him for his position on the mattress. He wasn't really hungry, but skipping the meal wasn't an option unless he didn't mind being reprimanded. Sometimes there were days where he really couldn't care less if they droned on about how important his meals were. Today, however, he was in no mood to deal with such friction. The home took their meals a little too seriously in his mind. Granted, there were some living here with either eating disorders or others who had gone, for extended periods of time, without adequate sustenance; their stomachs shrunken and too small to know the difference of a proper portion size. But neither of these did not apply to him, at least the latter not anymore. His stomach has long since become accustom to a full plate of food. His body, while still on the thinner side, had gained a healthy amount of weight and muscle that he was once unable to develop. Though he wasn't so much looking forward to the meal, he was looking forward to seeing his self-appointed sister.

Mikasa had entered the home before he had. From what he heard she was a difficult one to approach. She didn't allow men near her, and she was weary even of the other females and residents. It wouldn't be till much later that he would find out why exactly she was so closed off. When he first saw her he immediately realized she was one of the only kids there who chose to sit far away from the rest, back pressed tightly up into a corner and arms wrapped protectively over her folded legs. Her posture was drawn in and her near black eyes completely uncompromising. She was different from the other loners who kept themselves occupied or cradled themselves for comfort. Someone like her, someone unwilling to speak when spoken too yet remained within the proximity of others, he could tell, like him, even though she couldn't trust another human being, she craved to be near them. Desired the comfort that he was sure, at some point in her life, she had once known. Her eyes were just like his, painfully so. She had the same eyes that were at war with her mind; trying to defy time and scavenge any remainder of the life she once knew; of memories she wished she could keep fresh, raw, and everlasting.

Even realizing this he was too afraid to approach her. He sat in the opposite corner and pondered if she was thinking the similar thoughts as him. He wondered, if like him, she felt safer in a corner where no one could sneak up of her. If the dark circles under her narrowed eyes were from staring off in search of the fleeting moments she was once able to capture. Memories that once came so easily before and were, at the time, taken for granted. Did she regret not knowing sooner, so she could record, in any way possible, those occurrences that began to dissipate into ignorance?

It wasn't until a couple of older boys made their way to the small girl that Eren finally had the courage to stand in front of her. He never stood up against anyone for the sake of someone else before. He briefly let the curious thought of whether he would even bother standing up for himself, if he were in this situation and not the other way around. He knew the answer to that. He knew he wouldn't. He concluded in the short amount of time that he had blocked her from the three boy's view, whom easily towered over him, the only real reason he was defending her and standing against them was because he didn't want to see anyone else suffer alone like him.

He was thankful to learn that she could hold her own and he was very thankful that the fight was broken up quickly by one of the staff members. It hadn't taken much for Eren to lose his temper and throw a fist straight into the kid's stomach; were he taller at the time he would've aimed for his nose. The girl jumped into the fray of clumsy fists with disturbing ease, though she was certainly a dirty fighter. Without a second thought she kicked the older boys directly in the groin, even going as far as shoving her foot over the whimpering pest's teeth. She literally took the time to shove his upper lip out of the way with her cotton covered foot and pushed her heel against his two front teeth threatening to snap them should they ever decide to harass either one of them in the future. Eren remembered being torn away from the third boy after they exchanged sloppy punches neither one of them doing enough damage to stop their scuffle.

A couple days passed confined to their rooms because of the trouble they all caused and once allowed back into the recreational area he found her in the same corner as she always was. He made his way to her corner this time with the one possession he had left, a hand knitted red scarf. It used to be his mother's. He could remember how she used to wrap it around his neck and dangle the strings at the end over his eyes and tickle his nose. He missed the sound of their laughter together and her warm smile. The smell long since left the cloth and now just carried the same scent as all his other clothing. It was no longer anything but a relic to him now, but it was held a value to it none the less. It had comforted him after he lost his mother, and he thought that maybe perhaps now it could comfort the lone girl in the corner.

She tensed when he crouched down in front of her but had made no move to reject him. Her eyes cautiously analyzed his every move. He deliberately moved in slowly and carefully. Gently offering the view of the red scarf in order to have her focused on the item in his hands. He tried hard to mimic how his mother wound the scarf around his own neck, draping the end over the front of her face and bobbing it over her nose before letting it fall. A warmth had spread into his gut, and at that time he gave the faintest resemblance of a smile, something he had thought he would be incapable of ever since that paint chipped door closed his world to a measly 400 square feet of concrete enclosure. Timidly she reached forward, not having bothered to move the scarf from her eyes, and searched for him, grasping air a couple times before he leaned forward just enough that her fingers touched the right side of his cheek. Her hand retracted slightly for a mere second only to slowly move past his cheek, through the strands of hair and gently pulled him towards her till their foreheads pressed the red fabric in between them. They didn't say a word to each other nor did they need to. The comfort of the simple contact spoke volumes and Eren felt that perhaps in some way this was what it was supposed to feel like. A gesture of understanding and a mutual sense of relief.

"Mikasa."

Eren acknowledged the girl as he sat down with his tray. She was always one of the first ones to make her way down to get her breakfast, but oddly enough she choose to wait for Eren to arrive before she would touch her food. She nodded her head and picked up her neglected silverware and began eating the moment he picked up his. He knew since that day she had an odd attachment to him and though they were sometimes teased they thought nothing more of each other than self-appointed siblings. That being said it wasn't rare for them to turn to each other for physical comfort. Nothing sexual, they both just felt there were times where they just needed some form of contact or distraction. It could be as simple as holding hands, an embrace, or resting their heads on one another.

Eren lost count of how many times Mikasa had snuck into his room in the middle of the night and woken him up with glistening eyes filled with fear. She had startled him the first time she had done this, not knowing what to make of it. Knowing it wasn't ok for a girl and a boy to be in the same room together at night but at the time never knowing why that was. Just as suddenly as she had appeared she wrapped her arms uncomfortably tight around his torso and dug her ear into his chest over his heart. They would stay like that until she would fall asleep, his arms stiff at his sides, not knowing what to do with them until he himself fell asleep.

After the first few times this had happened she hadn't uttered a word and Eren had accepted that hearing his heart beating gave the girl some sort of relief and he didn't want to deny her that. He couldn't recall how many times she had done this before he finally felt comfortable enough to wrap his own arms around her, rubbing her back or stroking her hair in what he hoped would help her settle down. That same night, once her breathing evened out and he was sure she was asleep he heard her speak for the first time since the fight with the other boys.

Her voice was soft though he could hear the slight rasp in her throat. He had wondered how long it would take for her voice to sound that way. She told him about her mother and father. About how they were warm and kind people who had strong beating hearts in their chests. How when she was young and had nightmares they would cradle her between them, and no matter how much she tried to sleep without moving around she always ended up, just like her father, turned nearly upside down and limbs spread out and stretched over one another. Her mother had always been the one to wake first due to their sleeping habits, though she was never upset. She was always happy, always smiling, always teasing them about how they were so alike and how much she loved them. Her mother would teach her how to embroider, though since then she admitted she wasn't sure if she could now. Whether it be from forgetting altogether or it just being too painful for her he wasn't sure, and he wasn't willing to ask. She told him all the stories she could remember. Describe as much as she could in as much detail as she could pull from her memories.

All those memories held nothing as vivid as the ones surrounding their gruesome deaths. Nothing she described could hold a candle to how frighteningly easy it was for her to conjure what she hear, what she saw, felt, what the faceless men had done to her parents, what they had done to her. She told him how she could remember the smell of their blood, hear the pleas from her mother's strained voice growing weaker as the metallic scent filled her nose. The crimson blood soaked into the carpet below her father's still body, his chestnut hair damp and dark where it met the floor. The gurgled sound of her mother's plea's choking in the red fluid drowning her slit throat. The desperate look her mother sent her way as she noticed her only daughter witnessing the end of the scene in the doorway of her bedroom wide eyed and horrified. She remembered those greedy men with their calloused hands, one whose fingers were bony and sharp and one whose fingers were pudgy and padded. Their ragged breaths that felt like acid on her skin. The bruising left by the unforgiving way they manipulated her limbs and torso. She remembered how they laid her to waste, stripped her of everything in her she had in her life. Her family, her pride, her innocence, her reason for living. She was alone and broken and that was what she remembered the clearest, and it hurt them both knowing that the worst of memories last the longest.

Not the memory of comforting of arms around her and not a beating heart under her head and then he understood. All the times she had come to his room, all the times she had held his shirt shyly with her two fingers no matter where they walks, sat, ate, napped. She needed to verify he was really alive, breathing, and clean of the coppery scent of blood, free from red stains, cuts, and bruises. She needed to hear his heart beating and feel it drumming against her ear. She needed something to live for, and he would be that for as long as she needed.

After finishing their meals they dumped their trays and decided to sit out in the yard instead of the Rec Room. Sitting on the stoop they watched the younger kids running around, older kids napping on the grass, off on their own, conversing, whatever they saw fit in the half an acre of allotted space. It wasn't much but it was enough.

"Eren?"

"Hm?"

He turned his head the sky to gaze out the cloud's overhead. It really was a nice day.

"Do you miss Armin?"

Eren smiled softly and only took a moment pause before shaking his head, "A little but I'm glad he didn't have to stay here for long. He'll have a good life ahead of him."

A hum from his side let him know that she agreed with him but she didn't say more on the topic. Instead she leaned backwards to glance up at the sky as Eren did allowing her hand to fall on his as she squeezed it softly, not bothering to pull it away as she continued to watch the shifting clouds in the vast sea of blue.

Truth was he did miss Armin, but he was honest when he said he was glad he was able to leave. As wonderful as many the staff were it was still no comparison to family. Spending too long in a place like this you become dependent on it. People come in go, and though they try to teach you how to integrate back into society on your own that's not always an option for everyone. He didn't feel like it was much of an option for himself but he enjoyed the thoughts of imagining Mikasa and himself taking a bus to school every day, making friends, joining sports; he thought she would excel in any sport she tried; graduating, going to college, finding a job, building families. Their kids would have better lives, they would play well together, and they would find babysitters so Mikasa, Eren, and their respective lovers could go out on dinner dates and movie nights. They would build happy memories, share them and time would use them to replace the horrors they once faced.

As if sensing his wandering thoughts she spoke up barely above a whisper.

"We'll leave to someday."

Eren wasn't so sure about that. They were both badly damaged, and had it hard at trusting others beyond simple formalities. Eren was quick to anger, his emotions always getting the better of him when it came to rage. And Mikasa was far too focused, single-minded, and dependent on him. If he would fail she would undoubtedly fail, unless she found a new purpose in her life, he knew she would follow his lead no matter what that meant. He sometimes wished she did branch away from him, and he always felt the greedy flare of panic and fear digging into his throat at the same prospect.

"Of course, we can invite Armin to our dinner and movie nights."

Though he was sure she didn't fully grasp his fantasy of them having happily ever after's but she still tugged her scarf a little higher to hide the smile that stretched across her lips. There wasn't a day that past that she didn't wear it. The red had faded he noticed offhandedly.

"You shouldn't hide your smile like that," Eren chided but in a playful manner so as not to actually scold her.

A comfortable silence settled over them. Far off thoughts and fresh air, the warmth of the sun and the cool breeze. He wasn't sure how long had passed before Mikasa broke the silence.

"You think they'll assign a new roommate to you soon?"

Eren frowned. He was sure that she was still hopeful they would bend the rules for them just once. She always asked him the same question when he lost his roommate.

"Who knows."

That evening during dinner he ate with Mikasa as usual. Every so often she would tap her cheek to indicate where Eren happened to leave his food this time around. He would grimace a little and swipe it with his tongue at the spot giving her a half-assed glare and she only smiled and returned to her food. The room was fairly quiet he noticed. Which was odd because it was usually noisy with chatter. The home did consist of three floors. Two floors of the upper floors dedicated to living quarters and the downstairs where the small cafeteria, recreational area, offices and guest visiting areas were located. There were a fair amount of all ages, most under nineteen though a few who kept returning after failed attempts at leaving lingered from time to time. It was rare that they be turned away even as some of them made it well into their twenties. Most of those were special cases though, the ones that were really desperate and couldn't succeed in living in a world beyond these walls.

Eren tugged at his bottom lip with his teeth and let his curiosity get the best of him. At first glance he didn't really see anything out of the ordinary. It wasn't until his third sweep around the room that he noticed a lone individual eating in the corner of the room. Not at a table. Not anywhere near the tables, back pressed against the wall holding a bowl and eating from it as he stood. It was certainly odd behavior. There was plenty of seating scattered randomly throughout the room. No empty tables but plenty single seats to choose from.

He couldn't help but stare, there was no way he could reel in his curiosity now. The male was short in stature but he seemed like he had an aura that made him seem much larger and so much more intimidating. The low pinched brow and the pointed glare at the slop in his bowl didn't help his case any. Even despite the glower on his features, Eren could tell even from this distance he had an undercut of some sort, hair parted slightly to the left only slightly shying from the center. His figure was lean, the clothes on his body a bit baggy against his small frame. From the looks of it the guy would probably only clear a couple inches past five foot if he were lucky.

Dark eyes connected with his and Eren hesitated only a split second before returning to his meal, embarrassed that he had been caught staring. Mikasa looked off in the direction Eren had glancing at and made a click of her tongue when she found who he had been staring at. She turned to him with a small smile.

"I haven't seen him before."

Eren nodded, "Yeah. Probably admitted sometime this afternoon."

With the day coming to a close Eren walked Mikasa to her room and rustled her hair as he wished her goodnight. Turning towards the stairs he made his way back to the boy's floor. Today had been like any other day, and like any other day as the night crawled closer, he felt himself, no longer with the benefit of distraction, growing colder. Left for his thoughts to pray on him, he tried to focus on the soft padding of his feet against the laminate flooring beneath them. The dimming horizon painted the sterile white walls with soft golden and orange hues. He wasn't sure when he stopped walking in favor of watching the receding bright color fading into blue then night sky. Watching the landscape outside for a minute or so before beginning his trek back to his room once again.

It was then that all too familiar feeling crept into his heart and teased his tired mind. Everything felt so surreal, like he was really nothing more than a mere ghost in a foreign world. Recalling events in his life seemed like white noise, a haze of images you would find described in a morbid novel you could purchase for cents on the dollar in an old thrift shop. It didn't feel real. He didn't feel real. His eyes started to sting and his throat tightened. An ever present wish budding into the forefront of his thoughts begging to be granted. He didn't want to be here. Maybe if it hadn't been for him his father could have moved on. Armin would be fine on his own, he knew all too well that memories would disappear over the years until the blonde would talk about that time in that place with a faceless friend he couldn't recall the name of, with new friends and a loving family of his own. Mikasa, she seemed to need him now, but wasn't he just holding her back? He didn't deserve to have her selflessness. He wanted her to stand strong and tall for herself for once and not just for him.

He didn't want to wake up in this reality anymore. He wouldn't mind the pain he faced and the unfortunate events bestowed upon him had he had a purpose in life, but he didn't. He wasn't a hero, he wasn't a warrior, he didn't have a lot of talent or skill, and he would probably live a meager existence working like a dog at a job he had no interest in. He wasn't going to have anything more than a simple life of struggling through life from day to day. He tried to tell himself his dream of Mikasa, Armin, and himself living happily ever after is still a possibility but he wonders if even than would he really be happy.

Wasn't this all really just pointless? A list of grouped expectations placed on you based on your age to guide you through life. You could read your whole life off like a checklist. A standard mainstream idea of being a kid, growing up, finding a career, getting married, starting a family, dying a ripe old age leaving sons, daughters and grand babies to continue the same path, spoon fed you into thinking that's what everyone wants out of life.

Travel was often a factor that would calm him but sometimes, like right now, he thought even then, people can only be so different, only the scenery can change so much, and after his oouuu's and ahhh's would it really account for anything? It would just be another fond memory that would die before he met his own end.

He didn't have the benefit of religion. He didn't believe in god or a higher power, and he couldn't force himself to, no matter how hard he tried. He envied those who could place their faith in such a thing. It gave them a push forward into believing there's more to life than just this. There's a promise of so much more. So much more that he does not believe. It's such a cruel world, this idea of paradise is just something, to him, felt like any other pipe dream he concocted in his mind of how his life should have been.

His chest constricted in the agony of it all. At the ridiculous thoughts running rampant, that were stupid for someone his age to have. Dwelling on an uncertain future. Sick to his stomach that he doesn't want a future, doesn't want to wake up. He wishes he could've told his father when he was in bed with his mother the night of his conception to pull back out and jack his shit on the pillow instead.

He was trapped. He couldn't die. He couldn't bring himself to end his life. He couldn't bring pain to the people whom he met and lived with. Not to Mikasa, not to Armin, not to any Jean or Marco or Sasha or any other brief, but in his heart, significant friends he made over the years.

He simply wanted to have never existed at all.

Standing outside his door, his hand on the knob, he didn't even register the line of light under the door signaling that someone was in the room. He opened the door and furrowed his brow as the scent of lemon polish and bleach assaulted him. The layer of dust gone and replaced by the luster of the old wood of the dresser. Both beds with pristine white sheets, far whiter than even the walls, which he's never seen so clean before in all his years at the home. The sheets tucked, blankets neatly rested on top and pillow fluffed directly in the top center of the bed. The floor even had a shine to it, any trace of hair or dust collections gone. The window's glass so clear that, had the trim not divided the window pane into quarters, he would've easily been fooled into thinking the frame held no glass at all.

He was in such a trance at the state of the room, he would have never imagined it possible for it to be so clean, that he didn't even notice the presence in the room with him. Even though the black material of his shirt and dark hair should've stood out against the bright white room. Even the fluorescent light from the fan above seemed to shine brighter, and if he had to guess he would assume that not a speck of dust lingered on those rounded blades.

His eyes burned again, but it was more of a prickling sensation. Something in his stomach twisting into a knot as he felt a wave wash over him. He took a deep breath through his nose and didn't realize a tear had slipped from his eye until a gruff scoff sounded in the room.

"You miss the grime that much."

The sarcastic yet uncomfortable tone reached his ears and it was then his eyes laid on the short male from the cafeteria. Eren made to speak but his voice cracked in his throat, surprised he reached up to rub it only to become more shocked at the drop of wetness that fell over his thumb. Scrubbing his eyes with a light curse he apologized and wiped his hands on his pants before reaching a hand out to the individual sitting on the opposite bed.

"My names Eren. You must have gotten in today, I apologize for this, and not meeting you sooner. Thank you for cleaning the room," he rushed out trying to hide the shaking of his voice.

The other stared at his hand as if it were a claw full of pins and needles. His shoulder's slumped but and he retracted his hand back to his side after a tense moment of obvious rejection. Maybe he just didn't like contact, that wasn't abnormal here after all.

"Ah-mm," he paused as he wiped his still tearing eye, "I apologize again, if I made you feel uncomfortable. It's just… this smell of lemon cleaner and polish… it reminds me of her," after longer pause he realized the raven haired male didn't know what he was talking about. That made a small blush creep up to his ears.

Offering a said smile he finished in a smaller voice, "It reminds me of my mother…"

Eren gulped as he was placed under the intense stare of blue-grey eyes, not nearly as dark as he had first assumed. He bowed his head slightly and he moved to turn but his hand was caught before he could retreat to his own mattress. He turned his head with slightly parted lips and confusion in his eyes as the other male cupped his hand with a squeeze and shook it once. Eren couldn't help but notice as he did this that the male had at some point twisted their hands to the left a bit so his hand was over top of Eren's own. He remembered Armin mentioning how a simple handshake could tell you a lot about a person, and from the way this guy shook his he could immediately tell he was a straight to the point and dominant person.

There wasn't exactly sympathy in his eyes, but there was a trace of an emotion he couldn't quite pin point.

"Rivaille, but you can call me Levi."


	3. Chapter 3

That night he slept better than he ever remembered. His pillow and covers had a faint smell of lavender that lingered alongside the fresh scent of bleach. They were softer, somehow warmer, though that really didn't make any logical sense. They were still the same bedding as before, they certainly hadn't changed. Perhaps it was just the overall atmosphere that now enveloped the room. His eyes were heavy the moment he hit the mattress, and despite having an unfamiliar roommate whom he had yet to have known whether or not he should be weary of, he almost instantly relaxed into a boneless state.

Once he drifted off he dreamt of his mother. He dreamt of fresh linen being hung on the line in their small back yard. He couldn't see her face, and her voice was muffled, but in the dream he knew it was her. He could see the pale yellow sundress shifting against her from the breeze. He could practically feel the soft cloth on the line over head against his cheek and hands as he ran between them dodging her attempts at grasping him. And while he couldn't hear the laughter distinctly, he could feel the happiness bubbling inside of him the same way it would have had it reached his ears.

He could see his own chubby face, at a mere five years old, panting and laughing as he ran behind the white fabric. Could smell the bleach she used to wash the white sheet. Could see through the thin fabric in some places, where it had worn down, at a blurry pallet of the blue sky and green grass on the other side of it. He could see his green eyes bright with excitement, large and anticipating his mother's next attack, oblivious to that fact that this was only a dream. None of it was real, but none of that really mattered.

The sheet wrapped around him as arms enveloped him from behind. He wasn't scared, rather delighted in a fit giggles as he knew the words left unheard in her voice sang 'I got you!' And rather than fight to escape so they could play some more he leaned into the touch, no longer the five year old that knew so little. Who didn't know what it meant to lose this warmth. Who couldn't possibly comprehend this moment would never be able to share with her again. A five year old that didn't know the sting of a slap or harsh words and insults. Didn't know of a staircase that seemed to reach to infinity, that no matter how many times he climbed, or how many times he pressed his face to the barely there space under the door that reminded him there was a world that existed beyond that sliver of light, that he might never see again. Nails broken and bleeding from scratching and clawing at the wood, not caring of the splinters or sharp paint chips that dug under his nails, just desperate and determined to be free again. To get back to the room where his mother and father once tucked him in. To the bed that springs creaked softly as his weight dipped down on it.

The five year old boy playing with this blurred image of his mother could live forever in blissed ignorance of all these things and so much more. Staring at the image of his Mother cradling his sixteen year old body with a bright smile, as if to say to him it was alright, it would be Ok. Not knowing that through the pain and agony his teenaged self had faced that he couldn't be Ok, would never be Ok, but he smiled back none the less and curled into his mother's arms and sobbed.

It wasn't until he was jerked awake by a firm hand on his shoulder that he remembered it was all just a dream. He wasn't in his mother's arms, and his younger self wasn't staring back at himself reassuringly. He was back in his room, in his reality, his pillow soaked in tears where his head lay. Blinking away the remnants of what he wished would come flooding back, he looked to his shoulder and traced the hand back up a strong arm and gray eyes. The moment he recognized the gray instead of green he bit his lip as he tried to stop the new set of violent sobs that would wrack his body. He could do nothing to stop the onslaught of tears or the shaky gasp of breath that began the sobs that once again shook his body to the very core.

He didn't even have it in him to feel ashamed of being so exposed. The raw emotion eating away at any sense of abashment he would have shown at his vulnerable display. He didn't want his roommate to see him like this, but in his state he couldn't bring himself to care. He didn't care that the hand left his shoulder, and he couldn't care less that it meant the guy was probably going to leave him alone and call a nurse to help him gather his wits. He didn't care that it would lead to one hell of an obnoxious therapy session afterwards or that would crumble him down even further. He just wanted to go back to sleep. Go back to that world he was never allowed to have.

Had it been any other time he would have been astonished at the unforeseen response of Levi. Rather than leave the room as he assumed he would, he simply crouched down at the side of the bed and pulled the sobbing boy into his arms. A large hand gently pressed into his shoulder and the back of his head, firm enough to validate he was there. There was someone here, with him, holding him to calm him down. He wasn't cooed, which he was grateful for, he didn't want to appear or be treated as if he was infantile. Levi was silent as he held him, not a word, not anything other than regular calm and steady breaths. And though he didn't want to pass as needy he couldn't help but bury his head into the unfamiliar neck and shoulder. He grasped so tightly at the other's shirt he would be surprised if he hadn't ruined it, even more so surprised the Levi didn't once complain. It was easy to see he was in an uncomfortable position yet he didn't utter a word. The hand in his hair and on his shoulder didn't fuss over him. They lay flat and warm against the scalp and skin they covered. Time stretched on but he remained militant in his stance, not even shifting as Eren held onto him.

Once he felt his own body relaxing again, and heard the embarrassingly loud sniffles and the horrible hitched breathing easing back to a regular rhythm, his grip loosened and he was suddenly aware of the pain in his fingers from keeping the hard grip for so long. He could only imagine how Levi's knees felt bent with his and part of his own weight bearing down on them. He wanted to apologize, he wanted to say something, anything, but he couldn't find his voice. His throat felt too dry and his eyes burned from all the tears. He knew he should move, knew he should release the other male and let him go, but he couldn't find it in himself to do so. Selfishly he wanted to hold onto him longer. He didn't want to leave the room, he didn't even want to get out of bed. Even just waking for such a wonderful rested sleep, the emotional flip flop when he awoke left him feeling exhausted again; all the energy drained from his body.

Silently, Levi finally shifted with Eren still in his arms. The hand on his shoulder left, the warm spot against the flesh still radiating of warmth even with its loss, and moved under his knees. Confused, Eren did nothing more than gasp as Levi pushed him over in the bed before climbing onto the mattress himself. The added weight made the metal frame and worn box spring groan and creak as he adjusted them accordingly. Eren's head dipped only slightly lower toward Levi's chest, Levi's other arm leaving the space under his knees to rest on his stomach as he laid down.

Eren felt his heart racing, never being in such a position with anyone other than Mikasa, and not knowing Levi very well certainly wasn't helping his nervousness. He wasn't used to anyone being so comfortable with him. Nor was he familiar with anyone who willingly offered to comfort a complete stranger. He was even more embarrassed to discover that Levi's heart, unlike his, remained calm, and judging by the stoic expression glancing down at him, he was completely unaffected by the situation. As if his shirt wasn't uncomfortably wet with salted tears or soaked with spit and snot, as if it wasn't twisted and pulled in such a way that the stretched material would possibly be ruined, as if he wasn't now in laying in a bed, comforting a boy whom he only met mere hours prior. He felt a bit self-conscious. Had he not been as emotionally drained as he was at the moment, he might've even panicked at the situation. Other than Mikasa he had never been comfortable with anyone holding, let alone touching him, and even now in the state he was in he was mildly curious why it was he felt it soothing for Levi to do so. His chest wasn't soft like Mikasa's. It was firm and his collar bone protruded a bit more. His shoulder was bonier, his neck was thicker, and his hands were broad and grasped with latent power behind them. The way the air filtered through his lungs, the way his neck met his jaw, the prominent adams apple bobbing as he swallowed before taking another breath, and the way he let the air back out through barely parted lips, that weren't nearly as pink as hers. It was foreign, strange, and somehow he felt conversant on some level.

He thought again about saying thank you, about apologizing for his behavior, wanted to tell the other male that he wasn't usually like this so as not to chase him away. He found he liked the others presence, even if he didn't actually know him yet, for some reason he felt Levi was somehow similar to him. It wasn't in his eyes, it wasn't in his demeanor, but there was something he didn't know about just yet but he knew it was there, knew they shared something like Mikasa and he had. For now, his nose finally clearing, his head becoming lighter, his eye lids becoming heavier, and his breathing becoming softer, for now he would take this offer of silent sanctuary.

The second time he awoke that day was to the soft knocking on the door to inform them it was approaching lunchtime. His mouth made a small clapping after he swallowed, his mind fuzzy from sleep trying to make sense of the fact it was in the afternoon, he never slept in this late.

His eyes shot open wide as he jerked up in bed. The events from the morning rushing to him along with a burning hue of red marching up his neck and straight to his face and ears. He looked around the room to find himself alone. Levi nowhere to be found, and the bed across from his immaculate as if it haven't even been slept in. Eren slapped his hands to his face as he bit out an aggravated curse. He owed his roommate an apology and an explanation he was sure. He felt so stupid to have such a breakdown after so long in front of someone whom, the only knowledge he had of him, was his name.

The brunette pulled back the covers and stepped out of bed. Making his bed as carefully as possible, there was no way he would upset the other with a sloppy bed after he spent so much effort into cleaning the room. He quickly changed and made note that he would without a doubt need to clean his pillow cover again, before making his way out of the room and down the cafeteria.

As always Mikasa sat waiting for him, food and utensils untouched. He sat down with a soft greeting and began eating. Mikasa picked up her own fork and plucked at her food, though she stopped short of bringing her mouth against the chuck of potato it held. Instead her eyes bore into his and she let the hand hover over her tray.

"Are you alright?"

"M'fine," Eren said knowing that his voice was betraying him, he never was good at hiding how he felt with her, "I'm hungry. Don't want to talk about it."

Hesitant she stared at him a moment longer before pulling the forkful back to her mouth and continued eating. It was a little unnerving to have her focused so much on him throughout the meal. Even more so when the questions were forced to die on her tongue unless she wanted to upset Eren further. She looked conflicted the entire time she ate but ultimately said nothing at the moment. He was sure, however, she would have plenty to say later on when he was willing to talk more about it.

When they finished they cleared there plates and Eren reminded her that he had to meet with Hanji today.

Hanji, without question, is an odd commodity. She is passionate, to the point of obsession, and she could really drone on for hours on end if you let her. Didn't matter if she was talking about your emotional reaction to cheese, she would break it down to a microscopic level, and usually it was completely incomprehensible. She had this uncanny ability to tell you so much but never lead you to any revelations that you didn't already know. Aside from that she really did know what she was doing, even if her rambling left you put off and more mystified than you ever thought possible. The beauty in her not telling you things straight out is that she really did make you think for yourself. She didn't want to be the type to tell you, this is what is wrong with you and this is how you fix it. She's always very adamant about how atrocious of an approach that could be to someone's mental state.

'You can't fix someone by telling them their broken, it's just common sense. Though truthfully common sense is not so common.' She had told him that during a session years ago and it kind of stuck to him. He was sure the wording wasn't exactly that, knowing her it was much more eloquent. She seemed to have this switch between being serious and being causal. When she was nothing but business she was insightful and articulate, and while she was still those things any other time, when she was being casual she would laugh more, smile more, tease more, and formulate her words a bit more comfortably.

She had been his therapist since he arrived here. She was the one who finally got him to speak after so long. Made him feel some kind of sense of normalcy despite everything that happened in his short lifetime. She helped him to understand that everyone here was more or less good and meant well. That there would be no doors he couldn't open, and no requests that would go unanswered, of course within reason.

But at ten years old, after so many years of silence, so long after he gave up on pleading and begging he finally spoke again for the first time. The only request he gave her was to have his life back to what it was before his mother died. He knew this question fell in the category of unreasonable, but that was truly the only thing he wanted. The moment the words left his mouth he began shivering and it was the first time he allowed tears of frustration mar his cheeks in front of someone in so many years, the first time he allowed someone to hold him as he cried and cried until he wept himself into a fitful sleep.

Hanji is one of the few important people in Eren's life. Probably the closest thing he can consider to a guardian, though he knows their relationship is really nothing like that. He understands that this is her job and while she cares more for her 'patients' than most ever would he is no more important than any other troubled individual she studies. She's also another reason why Eren won't take his life. Though he always stops to wonder, is it really the thought of hurting them keeping him from doing so, or is it the sliver of remaining hope that perhaps maybe things might work out for him?

He taps lightly at her door and she beckons him inside. Taking his usual seat on the leather recliner he sits down and watches her finish off her last round of hastily scribbling on her paper before properly greeting him.

"Good morning Eren," she chirps enthusiastically.

He offers a half smile while gesturing to the clock, "It's afternoon now."

She blinks behind her glasses before glancing over to the clock and sheepishly returning her gaze to him while scratching at the back of her head.

"Well, well, that it is. I must've been too absorbed into my work again. Do you mind if I nibble on some of my lunch as we talk?"

Eren only nodded not really caring. Though Hanji picked up on him faster than he would've liked.

"You sure are pretty quiet today. Does it have something to do with missing your breakfast this morning? Did something happen."

He wasn't really ready for this. He sighed aloud and rested back into the chair looking up at the ceiling. The ceiling wasn't flat like the rest of the rooms in the building. Her office had a thick decorative crown molding that broke into wide square panels with odd leaf like accents in the center of them. While it was pretty gaudy he couldn't help but wonder at them. It was refreshing, even with all the unnecessary detail and cluttered designs, it still managed to be elegant in its own way.

"I don't really want to talk about it, not today. Can we discuss it next time," he asked in a pleading tone, hoping this time she wouldn't pry too much.

"Hm," she thought for a moment, "Well, you'll certainly be keeping me in suspense but I suppose I'll leave that topic for another day. In exchange, have you had any new developments lately?"

"Developments," he mimicked the word in a question.

"Developments. Yes. For instance, with Mikasa or someone else in the facility?"

Sometimes she was like an open book.

"You mean Levi, my new roommate."

"New roommate, I wasn't aware."

Eren knew she was full of it. She always acted like this, it was the same with Mikasa. She would dig into these things as if she was searching around in the dark, but he knew better. She had a roundabout way of wording things to make it seem like she was surprised, it was the one thing he didn't quite appreciate about her.

"Hanji," he sighed again, "I wish you would stop doing that."

"Doing what Eren," she asked playfully.

Well fine, whatever, she could play the part of innocence all she wanted but he wasn't fooling him.

A longer drawn out sigh was expelled from his lungs before he threw his arm over his eyes. He might as well get it over with. He told her what little there was to tell about Levi, without exactly speaking about the events that took place this morning. He also refrained from mentioning how the clean smell of the room triggered a long buried memory of his mother. He would have to remind himself to thank Levi for that as well. It gave him some hope at least that more memories of her lingered and he just needed something to set another one off. Unbury it from the depths of his brain and latch it back into a reachable part of his mind.

He told her about how oddly comfortable he was around Levi despite his seemingly stand offish personality. Described him in detail as well as he could recall, from cool grey eyes to his the cut of his hair and the line of his jaw. Told her about how quiet he was but despite that how unapproachable he came off as he seemed like he was actually sensitive and tender-hearted. When he was done telling her everything he possibly could with what little he actually knew he listened to her frantically writing down every detail of their conversation. He didn't know why it was so important, but he didn't bother to question her. She would just go off on a tangent, once again, without revealing anything he didn't already know.

When he was finally excused he shared a small smile in parting and Hanji reminded him she'd be asking about this morning in there next session. He only grimly nodded, not at all looking forward to it.

He had some time before dinner and he choose to go outside alone for once. There was a tree in the yard that had thick sturdy branches that he liked to climb to get away for a while. Mikasa knew when he went to that tree that he needed some time alone and never bothered him. He was glad for that. It wasn't that her company wasn't unappreciated but sometimes it was nice to gather himself without company. He always found it morbidly amusing that he wanted to be away from others considering how many years he spent alone under his family's house.

He frowned a little as he got to the yard and noticed a shadow of a figure already in the tree. Deciding he could just climb a bit higher he still made his way over, noticing as he got closer that the figure was sitting on the branch with his back against the trunk of it. Even closer and he was able to make out that the figure had one leg drawn with his arm rested across it, the other dangling limply over the branch he sat on. Closer yet he saw the same even expression he saw this morning, save for the slightly pinched glare he made as he stared forward through the leaves and out into the distance.

He felt himself relax and contrary to his body's reaction his heart sped up a little bit. It was an odd feelings but not uncomfortable. As he pulled himself up into the tree Levi didn't so much as flinch. As a matter of fact, he ignored him altogether. He thought it was odd, that knowing if it were someone else it would have annoyed him to no end that he was blatantly ignored, yet he wasn't the least bit aggravated that Levi hadn't paid him any mind. He situated himself a couple branches away and a little higher, but still kept the man within sight, even though when he first noticed someone in the tree he told himself he'd just climb out of view of them. He didn't bother to make conversation, rather he sat as comfortably as the bark under his jeans and the cloth covering his back would allow and settled for glancing over every once in a while.

They spent a few hours like this. Neither speaking. Neither really moving all that much, save for Eren shifted his legs every now and again to get more comfortable. It wasn't until an attendant called out to the yard for dinner that Eren finally broke the silence.

"I wanted to thank you."

He didn't look over right away, after speaking the small sentence Eren chose instead to keep looking forward for a few breaths longer. When he did Levi hadn't turned to him, hadn't even made a move to indicate he heard him speak. He thought to speak up again but Levi beat him to it.

"I only responded accordingly," he said in a flat tone, still not bothering to look over.

"Regardless," Eren felt a little sense of desperation to convey himself, "I still wanted to thank you."

"Then Thank me," Levi said as he finally turned his head to meet Eren's gaze.

The fold between his eyes was gone. The pinch evaporated into a less than scowling expression but settling back into the neutral one he seemed to school the most so far. Eren was a little flustered at this, but he couldn't find it in himself to be upset, even with the abrasiveness of the shorter man. Instead he just smiled grateful to be given a chance for Levi to accept his appreciation.

"Thank you, Levi."

He sensed the barely there smile that didn't quite make it to Levi's lips, and that was enough to satisfy him for now. As they both descended the tree, Eren fell into step behind Levi feeling a bit lighter. He found himself hoping this time or maybe even the next, Levi would prefer to sit at his table rather than stand against the wall.


	4. Chapter 4

Eren shifted a bit uncomfortably in his seat. Perhaps he should've taken into account how unenthused Mikasa would be, despite his own delight, of Levi joining them for dinner. The silence was heavy between the three of them. So much so he was becoming conscious of how loud it sounded when he swallowed his own food. He looked between the two again, doing so cautiously every so often to see if any of the tension relented. He wasn't so lucky. Mikasa watched Levi intently, not even sparing a glance at her tray as she stabbed or scooped her meal up blindly. Levi, instead, settled on giving her unamused glances every so often with a delicate arch for his brow. Eren couldn't figure out what the hell was going on. They hadn't said a single word to each other since they sat down. The moment Eren greeted the girl her eyes targeted Levi's snapping her jaw shut and pressing her lips into a thin line. Did they bump into each other without him knowing and exchanged words? Mikasa was quiet, sure, but she wasn't the type to downright hate someone on the spot, and for whatever reason he couldn't help but feel that was exactly the case with Levi. For some ungodly reason she had this look of absolute distain on her face. He shifted the food on his tray uncomfortably, there was no way he could have anticipated this kind of animosity.

Levi broke the silence with a small sigh while he moved out of his seat. He made a move to grab his tray but only did so with his left hand his right… Eren felt the finger tips touch the nape of his neck before gently brushing further, tracing the skin around his shoulder, collar bone, before the fingers quested up his neck to his jaw, lightly tipping his head to the side. Levi leaned forward to speak softly against his ear.

"I'll meet you back in the room Eren."

Eren. The name left his tongue like silk and the teen could do little more then hold his breath as a warm pair of lips pressed just below his ear. Levi made it a point to glance over to Mikasa with a tell-tale smirk before straightening up and walking off to deposit his tray. Eren remained stiff, at least until he remembered his lungs actually needed air to survive. His hand slowly came up to touch the slightly damp area where Levi's lips had kissed him. It took him a bit too long to realize that Levi, had indeed, kissed him, and the realization brought a faint blush to rise on his cheeks. Was that why Levi willing to get so close to him? Before he could ponder further Mikasa's strained voice caught his attention.

"Eren. What was that? Is he doing something to you? I swear I'll rip him in two if…"

Eren waved his hands in front of his face trying to deny everything, "It's not like that," but really he couldn't know if that were his intention. Maybe he was just riling her up? Whatever the case was he needed to calm the girl down before she tried to do something that would get her in trouble.

"He hasn't done anything like that before," Eren leveled his eyes with Mikasa and waited for her to acknowledge this fact. When she nodded he told her he would make sure to speak with Levi about it when he got back to the room, and tacked on that he could handle it on his own. Which again he waited for her to nod her agreement, albeit this time being much more reluctant than the first.

His heart beat was hammering in his ears as he walked back to the room. He felt uneasy, nervous even. It took him several minutes in front of the door to his room before he actually had the courage to open it. He steadied himself and stepped in the room. He was surprised to see Levi sitting on the dresser staring out the window. His back leaned, he had to imagine uncomfortably, against the window frame. His left leg folded under his right, which was only slightly bent at the knee, his hand kneading his foot as his other kept his balance. His expression was completely flat. The view from their window left much to be desired. Trees lined the sidewalks leading up to the home, and a large parking lot off to the right of that. Large iron fences wrapped around the building, the gate to the faculty was usually closed and only opened when permitted. A single guard station built on the outside to check ID's or allow admittance to those who are visiting, employees or newly entering. It was, at least for Eren, a little depressing to know that they couldn't leave. Even more so that the fences made him feel more like a caged animal to be examined, poked and prodded. They were here to help, he knew, but it was still disconcerting to know that he wasn't free.

"What are you staring at brat."

He suddenly felt very, very stupid. He didn't even realize he was staring until Rivaille spoke up. The brunette bit the inside of his lip as his brow folded looking off to the side to avoid his gaze.

"In the cafeteria… I wanted to ask you wh…"

"Don't think too much into it."

He bit the inside of his lip harder this time. Levi didn't even give him a chance to speak.

"Fine but…"

He found himself at a loss for what to say. But what? What did he want to say to him? What did he want to ask? What did it even matter? He asked himself all this but he still wanted to know.

"Then why?"

"You're too damn noisy."

The sentence was louder than before, closer, when did Levi get in front of him? Hazel eyes scanned their way up to Levi's own cool grey orbs. They didn't give anything away, nothing, as if they were empty, and it only served to unnerve him further.

"I shouldn't be here..."

The words were soft. So soft Eren had thought he hadn't even really heard it, that perhaps he just imagined the words in Levi's voice. Before he could speak a hand had found its way through his hair. From this distance he could still smell the remnants of iced tea on Levi's breath. His fingers brushing against his scalp and drawing to the back of his neck. He tipped Eren's head forward, the angle slightly awkward in their difference in height, but the only way to see directly eye to eye this close together. Eren was sure he was even hunching a little but his body had this oddly numb sensation. The only thing he could feel was the pressure of Levi's hand against his neck and the moist air between them.

"You were in a lot of pain when your mother died."

He stated this as fact, and Eren's only answer was to squeeze his eyes shut his heart gripped tightly in his chest. He gave a barely there nod after the silence dragged on, expecting that Levi wanted him to answer, but he couldn't use words. His throat felt tight again. It wasn't an unfamiliar feeling but it wasn't at all pleasant, and no matter how many times he felt it, he never could see himself getting used to it.

"And after…?"

The question twisted his stomach even further in knots, his breathing becoming harder to control as each time he felt like he wasn't getting any oxygen. He felt so exposed, raw. It seemed laughable that a series of simple questions could cause him to panic like this. He couldn't hold himself back with Levi, and whatever reason it were, he didn't want him hold himself back.

"W-why are you asking me this?"

"What happened after?"

Eren felt his mouth open and shut like a fish out of water. He didn't know where to start, didn't know why he was even going to begin in the first place. He felt Levi pull him forward and pressed their foreheads together calling out his name. A second time, firmer, and Eren opened his eyes to stare directly into Levi's own. The grey, he hadn't noticed the spindles of blue woven near the pupil, it was faint and something he would've never noticed had he not been so close. He raised slightly quivering hands to the sides of Levi's head. As he copied what Levi himself had done, he pushed his fingers past his cheeks and past his ears. The undercut hair felt soft and textured, he was actually surprised it wasn't rougher. His fingers traced either side of his neck as his hands dropped further before settling on his shoulders. The skin was taunt, soft, smooth, and his shoulders without an ounce of fat, chorded with muscle and prominent bones. Eren felt his breathing gradually growing even, his shoulders slumping, and his throat and stomach loosening. Levi didn't prompt him any further; rather he waited patiently for Eren to speak, which he was limitlessly grateful for. When he finally gathered his wit he told him as much as he could remember. Everything from the moment his mother past, his father's downfall, the basement in which he was kept, to finally being found and brought here. He spilled everything he could remember. He didn't shed a tear as he spoke, nor did he tremor.

"Is that all?"

The sentence wasn't the sweetest, but Eren couldn't find it in himself anymore to get upset by it. Rather he laughed and breathed out his response that yes that was all he remembered. He didn't question the sigh of relief from Levi's lips, didn't wonder at it at all because he wasn't given a chance to. Lips found his, delicately pressed, lingering for a moment before the contact was broken all together. His hands fell to his sides at the loss of support of Levi's shoulder. His forehead suddenly felt cool air where it was once warm, and his lips tingled from their new found absence. By the time he gathered himself and sat on his own bed he watched Levi position himself back on the dresser peering out the window. He watched him curiously, and was glad that he wasn't called out on it this time. He remained fixated on the same neutral expression he wore, even after he had told him all he had about his past. Fascinated by the dimming light beyond the horizon that created tones and shadows across Levi's strong features. The strong shoulders, winding veins visible under the thin skin of his arms and lean body. Took in the dark circles under his eyes and the line of his lips, the way his hair fell and how his thin bangs skirted like a sheer curtain over his tired eyes. Even with the fine lines, and sullen features, even with his sunken eyes and pulled lips, Eren found him captivating. He didn't realize he was on the verge of sleep until the words echoed in his ears, and he wasn't exactly sure whether not he was awake when he heard it or already asleep.

"You need to leave behind Mikasa and myself brat, and get out of this damned cage if you ever hope to truly live."


	5. Chapter 5

Eren wasn't surprised to find the room empty once he woke up. Levi's bed still pristine as if it hadn't been used at all the night before. He marveled at how clean and tidy the other male is. He thought, perhaps, Levi had scrubbed the room clean just because he was knew to the room, yet everyday it stayed just as dust free as the last. The scent of lemon sometimes replaced by the fragrance of lavender. The sheets always crisp and faintly smelling of bleach, even his. He wondered when Levi had the time to strip both beds and wash them without his knowing. Though the male did spend a lot of time missing from Eren's eye, and Eren himself had a hard time convincing himself that he wasn't purposefully looking out to spot him. It wasn't long after Levi had become his roommate that they formed this type of pattern. Perhaps a routine would better describe it.

In the morning he would wake up alone, leave the room and eat breakfast then later in the day lunch with Mikasa. In the afternoons following lunch he would wander outside to the tree in the small yard and find Levi perched on the same branch where the first time he had found him. He would climb up and they would silently enjoy each other's company, or at least Eren knew he enjoyed Levi's. He wasn't entirely sure if the raven cared or not that he was there. On rare occasion Eren tried to strike up a conversation, but it there was even a slimmer chance that he would get more than a few sentences out of him. When he did, however, Eren would find all his previously failed attempts worthwhile. He thought over time they would progress in their odd companionship, but that was hardly the case. Despite Levi comforting him on numerous occasions, he was still no closer to him than when they first met. And even though Levi had made it a habit to use physical contact a means to annoying Mikasa when he joined them for dinner, he hadn't dared to kiss him like he did the night he asked about his past. Eren found himself in this odd place that he would imagine was quite like limbo with Levi. He always felt at ease yet perturbed all the same whenever he was near. He couldn't quite place what he was feeling, or why he was feeling it. It was new and unsettling and still he somehow found it refreshing; it was frustrating to deal with.

Making his way to the dining area for breakfast he sat with Mikasa. She had been increasingly growing on edge since Levi first met her. He tried to quell the tension between the two, but no matter how much he asked them why they were always at each other's throats, neither one was willing to elaborate. There was really nothing he could do when both offending parties refused to cooperate, but it upset him just the same because he knew he was the source of the tension.  
"I really wish you would at least tell me why you don't get along."

"I don't like him."

Eren sighed. Well, obviously, but he chose to leave it alone again for today. No matter how many times he asked she always found a roundabout way to respond.

"You see Hanji again today."

Not exactly a question, she already knew. If she were anyone else he would be unnerved by her knowing his schedule. As a matter of fact, he was sure she knew his therapy schedule better than himself even. He smiled with a slight shake of his head, Mikasa was still Mikasa, troubled or not.

"I do, right before lunch."

She hummed and rather than leave the conversation he was surprised when she continued, it really wasn't like her to pry too much. At least not with his therapy sessions anyway.

"Does Hanji ask you about Levi?"

The tone was a bit bitter, and Eren couldn't help but pick up the slight tone of apprehension in her voice. It was odd but he indulged her.

"Sometimes," he admitted, "She'll ask me questions about how we're getting along. Probably because we're roommates."

He tacked on the last bit so she didn't come up with any crazy ideas, whatever they may be. In truth he was sure that was legitimately the reason for Hanji's questioning, so he wasn't trying to throw her off topic or dismiss her with that assumption.

"Does she ask about me?"

Eren frowned. What kind of question was that? Surely she didn't mean to compare value between Levi and herself through Hanji's curiosity. They were completely incomparable to him, two completely different people, aside from their painful distaste for one another and their schooled expressions.

"Hanji asks about everyone I communicate with," Eren said slowly, carefully, "Equally."

He put extra empathizes on the 'equally'. She nodded her head though she didn't seem pleased at all. Strangely enough, she actually seemed a bit upset.

"Mikasa."

She looked up to meet his eyes. He found himself taken back by the anxiousness in her eyes. It must really be bothering her, and though he couldn't understand why, he felt his heart thump painfully in his chest. She truly meant the world to him, she was his first friend in this world, and the first one to understand and love him unconditionally beside his mother. He couldn't stand seeing that timid emotion tainting her eyes like it was now. He reached forward and plucked the silverware from her hands before pushing their palms together, intertwining their fingers. He gave them a firm squeeze and focused solely on her.

"No one's going to replace you. No one will step between us. We've always had each other and nothing will change that. Do you understand?"

He was firm and left no room for argument, and he felt his heart swell when a faint blush and a small smile revealed itself against her pale features.

"I understand."

His visits, lately, with Hanji were odd to say in the least. Over the past few weeks she did indeed ask quite a bit about Levi and Mikasa. He felt uncomfortable approaching the topic, she just seemed a little too overzealous, and it unnerved him greatly. It seemed like she knew more than she let on. Like there was some important detail that she wasn't disclosing. He hated when her pen furiously scrapping against her notepad. Data, as she would refer to it, that he would never examine with his own eyes. He desperately wanted to know why it was so important. At first it made sense, he was never the easiest person to get along with, and he often kept a distance save for a select few, most of which had made their way through the home and off to what he hoped would be better and more promising lives. But she was too insistent on this topic and it was beginning to make him question her intentions entirely. What was it specifically that made Levi and Mikasa so damned important in Hanji's eyes, and why did she feel the need to constantly bring the two up in their sessions?

Today would be no different. When she asked him again about his interactions with the two he couldn't help the summoned image of Mikasa's worrisome expression. The change in his demeanor was instantaneous, he was seething. He felt rage bubbling in his gut. He knew it wasn't completely justified, and it didn't make sense to get so upset, but once he remembered the pained expression from earlier he couldn't help it. He felt this overwhelming need to protect Mikasa especially, and even Levi, though if he really were to think about it, he barely knew him and didn't really see the man needing his protection.

"Stop asking about them," he snapped in a near growl.

"Eren," Hanji frowned, this was certainly a setback.

"I'm only asking what I need to in order to help you."

"You never asked this many questions about anyone else. What makes them so important that you have to nit-pick everything I saw or do with them? Why wasn't Armin just as important or even Jean for that matter?!"

His temper was getting the best of him, Hanji knew this. She also knew there was little reasoning with an enraged 16 year old boy, especially one named Eren Jaegar.

Eren watched her for any hint she might give away. She was formulating her words, quiet and calculating what she should say next, and he could only feel himself getting more and more worked up. His hands now fists in his lap, blunt nails digging crescents into his skin.

"Mikasa and Levi," she paused to maul over her words, "They… have a different type of impact on you."

Impact? As vague as ever. As fucking useless an explanation as ever.

"Elaborate."

"We're not ready to discuss the why yet Eren."

"What do you mean by impact?! What makes them so different?!"

Hanji closed her notebook looking off to the side, "I'm sorry Eren. We'll have to stop here for today."

"Hanji this is bullshit! Just tell me!"

"Eren," the tone was a low warning, "Please don't make me call for a sedative. I don't want to have to resort to this time."

"This time...," he repeated the words incredulously. When the fuck did she use a sedative. As he repeated the words Hanji's eyes widened before she broke off contact again. She hadn't meant to say that, she slipped, and Eren saw right through it.

"What do you mean this time? When did you drug me? What are you talking about? Why can't you tell me! Just fucking SAY IT!"

She flinched, more than likely at her own slip of the tongue rather than Eren himself.  
"Eren, we're done for today. Please leave, I won't repeat myself again."

He was angry, so angry, and dammit all, he was hurt. Hanji had been the one adult close enough for him to consider reliable, even with her quirkiness and odd behavior. Sure she didn't tell him everything, but she was never this secretive. She never had hid something from him to this extent before. On top of that she admitted to administering a sedative before. Why did he not remember that? When was it that had happened? What did he do to prompt her to do so? Did he lose his temper much like he did now? But even then, that wouldn't explain why he didn't remember it happening in the first place.

Without another word he stormed over to the door and jerked it open, slamming it on his way out. He needed to get air, he needed to breath. He needed to get out of this damn building. He felt his heart twisting, his stomach was churning and his eyes felt like they were being pressed into his skull. He wasted no time exiting to the yard and heading for the familiar tree a short distance away. He didn't care about lunch. There was no way he would be able to get any food down right now anyway. He needed to get away. He needed somewhere to go, not here. Not anything familiar, but there was nowhere else to go. In despair he realized he didn't have the ability to go anywhere. He was trapped by fences, brick, and mortar. He was trapped by his limitations; by the inability to function as a normal 16 year old should. He couldn't be content with his life, he would always have the deepest corners of his mind saturated in filth, mold, and cemented darkness.

As he climbed the tree and settled into his spot he threw his hands over his face and repressed the urge to scream. He cursed and choked as the empty feeling entered his chest once more. This over powering desire pulsing in his chest, beating against his already battered heart and tired mind. He felt it more than thought it; felt the desire to cease to exist entirely. He didn't want this life. Not to live, not to breath, not to be here, but he couldn't allow himself death. He was stuck. He was trapped. Trapped. He couldn't get away. He was trapped.

"Hey brat. Brat!"

He didn't hear Levi at first, and when he did he ignored him. He didn't want to have anyone around him now. Not Hanji, not Levi, not even Mikasa. He wanted to shut down, he wanted to stop, and he didn't want this anymore. He curled in on himself as he heard Levi grumble before pulling himself up into the tree. He heard the rustling of his movements, and shortly after, felt the faint vibration of the branch under him as Levi hoisted himself on it as well.

"Look at me."

Eren only dug his face deeper into his crossed arms, trying to pull his legs tighter against himself.

"Eren."

"I want to be alone," his words were barely audible, much weaker than he expected his voice to be.

He felt a hand in his hair, he thought Levi was attempting to comfort him, but he didn't want that not now. He wanted to be left alone. It was just one simple request. The hand didn't comfort him however, instead Levi fisted the hair on the back of his head and jerked it back harshly. Eren gasped in surprise, immediately reaching to pull the hand away from his head, but Levi kept a firm grip. He opened his eyes to see Levi in front of him, grey orbs narrowed dangerously.

"No. You don't."

"H-How would you know that?! Let go! It hurts!"

Levi's grip refused to relent. In response to his retaliation Levi responded with his own in turn. He jerked his hand back, forcing both his head and Eren's head to hit the bark of the tree.

"Listen you little shit, because I won't repeat myself. I'm not going to tell you things will get better, or feed you some bullshit about how you should be feeling, but I will tell you this. You can't expect things to go your way or make you happy. The world doesn't work that way, it's ruthless, especially someone as frail as you, but you need to make something out of it yourself. Do you understand? I can't give you a purpose, nor can Mikasa or any other useless mound of flesh you choose to cling to. You make something of it yourself, got it?"

The words reverberated in his mind, but it was so easy to say, and a completely different animal altogether to accomplish. What right did Levi have in telling him all this? What right did he have to tell him such things? Who gave anyone the right to tell him to press on with his life, to push forward and find happiness when neither aspect appealed to him at all?

"But what if that's not what I want? Does it even matter what I want?! Why do you care anyway? I barely fucking know you."

"Don't be so spoiled. Do you think you're the only one that wishes they could cease to exist? You have to start making decisions Eren. You want to fucking die, then do so. You want to live, then live. You have to choose and just hope that you don't come to regret it."

"So you feel it too," Eren's voice was softer, the stress dwindling as he once again felt himself vulnerable. Eager to confirm this tiny bit of knowledge with Levi. Grey eyes softened as well, no longer venomous but rather sad, and worn down. The hand in his hair releasing its deathly grip. His scalp throbbed now but he couldn't really feel it, though he knew he would later. For now Eren focused on Levi, amazed at how much his heart ached for this man though he knew next to nothing about him or of him.

"I can't exist without you Eren, but I'm making my choice."

The confusion was written all over his face. He didn't understand at all what he was saying. He couldn't understand but it was painful to hear those words. What could he possibly mean? What choice was he making? He didn't understand his words nor his actions. He didn't understand why Levi tells him that he can't possibly comprehend how much he cares for him, though they've had the barest of interactions over these past few weeks. He can't fathom why he finds Levi's lips, once again after so long, pressing softly against his. He doesn't know why his lips move with his in turn, or why their tongues clash together and so naturally as if they were already acquainted in such a fashion. Why they both wrap their arms and trace, search, grip, and knead over shoulders, chest, backs, and stomachs in some sort of verification that they truly are there embracing one another. When they finally pull away from the kiss and Levi holds him tightly against himself, Eren's head resting on his shoulder and arms circling the middle of his back, the question eats away at him though he doesn't ask it. Feeling if he did it might shatter more than just this delicate moment between them, but he can't shake the prevailing thought from his head.

How did Levi know he didn't want to exist?


	6. Chapter 6

Later that evening Eren finds himself replaying what he could remember of their conversation earlier. Broken bits and pieces that, at first, he hadn't a second thought for. Sentences that, much like Hanji's, alluded to something far beyond his scope of knowing. It itched at the back of his mind throughout dinner. Worse than ever when Levi and Mikasa argued over another topic he couldn't grasp, neither willing to previse him or fill him in before or after the fact. What made this argument stand out, aside from the promise of death from Mikasa's eyes, he knew they were referring to him in some manner.

Eren had missed lunch, as did Levi. They hadn't stayed in the same position for too long before he settled back against the bark of the tree while Levi scooted himself forward to lay down with his head in Eren's lap. Eren himself was surprised, but happy with the new position. He was afraid Levi would just break off contact with him altogether and revert to being aloof as he usually seemed to do. The brunette smiled softly as he scanned over Levi's relaxed features. He never grew tired of his eyes tracing the curves and angles of his nose and lips. The structure kept him entranced, odd thoughts of how to preserve this image fueling him in attempt to engrave his memory. It was odd how he felt that Levi could just disappear at any moment, and even more disturbing to him at how fear chilled him to the bone at the prospect of losing him. It was just as strong as the anxiety of not having Mikasa look after him anymore, but the pull was just slightly stronger. It was perplexing how powerfully he felt about it. He'd only known him for such a short length of time, and truly new nothing about him other than his name, expressions, and odd behavior.

He watched the raven's nose wiggle for a second, his mouth manipulated in turn, forming a tiny frown before relaxing once more. Grey eyes hidden behind lids and long black lashes, had Mikasa been a more girly type, he was assume jealousy of those lengthy lashes played a part in her distaste of Levi. Loose strands of hair fell against his forehead and the rest a stark contrast against his lighter jeans. His nerves bit into him as his fingers itched to lace through the strands, knowing full well how soft they actually were. The temptation to do so winning him over as he brushed his fingers through it. He watched as Levi's brow puckered briefly before settling again, a soft appreciative sigh leaving the reddened lips. Eren felt a blush creep onto his face as he realized just the reason why the raven's once pale lips with tinted with a pink hue. They stayed like that, for quite some time. Amazed that Levi hadn't once complained about his back, even when they finally were called for dinner and his spine cracked as he sat up and stretched.

And as mentioned before, dinner time itself was unpleasant to say in the least. They had started to eat as was normal, but there was an odd storm cloud hanging over the table, like at any moment lightning would strike.

It didn't take long.

"We need to talk," Mikasa broke the silence.

Eren stopped short of lifting the fork to his mouth only to realize she hadn't been speaking to him. He followed the glare, his mouth still open and fork hovering inches from his mouth, and watched as Levi continued to take his time chewing his last bite before bothering to give her any sort of acknowledgement.

"I'd disagree."

"I wasn't asking for an opinion and I wasn't giving you a choice. Did you even consider the consequences?"

"From every angle, yes," he answered dully, "and from what I can see yours is completely short sighted."

Mikasa glanced over at Eren for a short instant, before glaring back at Levi, "Your perception is obviously warped. Perhaps you could blame your lack of height in this situation."

"You're just running things in place, just what are you trying to protect Mikasa," the words harsher than ever as Levi himself sported a look that would have so many others, unlike the girl before him, wanting to run for the hills so to speak.

"What the hell are you two on about," Eren snapped as he slammed his fists against the table. He felt his blood boil when neither one of them listened to him. They didn't even turn their heads or flinch. It was like they were exchanging words through their eyes, things left unspoken that could fill in the gaps.

"We're all he has," she was quieter now, but her voice just as stern as before.

The half smirk that stretched his lips was full of resentment, "Because that's all you're allowing him. Just who the hell are you protecting?"

"Enough!"

Eren's shout finally broke through.

"I'm done! I'm tired of this! First with Hanji and now with you two?"

He was hurt, tired, pissed, and again all those emotions that Levi and himself had buried hours earlier resurfaced with vengeance. He felt sick, and nauseated. He just wanted to know what was going on. He had enough lack of control over his life, they didn't need to pile onto it and leave him ignorant all the same. He stared them down expectantly, angry beyond words when neither budged, their lips sewn shut.

"Fine," he raked a shaky hand through his hair, "Just… fine."

Those were the events that now led him to this moment. After storming to the room he waited for Levi to come back. To demand more answers out of him, and he refused to leave him alone this time, refused to let him out of his sight once he walked through that door. He wasn't going to tolerate this any further. No more side tracking. No more confusion, misleading, none of it. He steeled his nerves, clenching and unclenching his sweating palms. Licked his dry lips and staring down the down in front of his bed. His heart sped when he heard the turn of the knob. A quick breath, an audible gulp as he cleared his throat, and the door inched open. Levi, nonchalant as ever, as if he hadn't stomped his way out of the cafeteria earlier on that day. He wouldn't get distracted, he wouldn't allow Levi to distract him. He needed questions to be answered, and he was going to get them or hell have no fury.

"I deserve some answers. I want you to explain the things you said to me today in the yard, and I want you to indulge me with whatever the fuck it was you two were fighting about."


	7. Chapter 7

Notes: Ok ~ We're going to start getting into some serious push and pull on the plot things from here on out will start falling into place - though I won't promise they'll be easy to figure out I was going to extend this chapter but ah it's late I'm ill so fucking dying ~ but I wanted to get this out of the way so I can start wrapping this one up ( there will still be a few chapters but I'm not going to draw this out anymore ) Well Enjoy!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

"I deserve some answers. I want you to explain the things you said to me today in the yard, and I want you to indulge me with whatever the fuck it was you two were fighting about."

Levi gently closed the door behind him, his lips still pressed together, taking a few steps forward to stand in front of him. He brings his palm up to cup Eren's jaw, a flicker of something akin to pity in his eyes as he speaks.

"You feel it don't you?"

The vague question only serves to piss him off, Eren growls slapping Levi's hand from his face and bites out his words.

"Feel what? Stop dancing around my questions!"

Levi's as shift to look at the hand Eren slapped away and doesn't meet his gaze until he clenches and unclenches a fist.

"We're not really living are we," Levi asks rather than answers, and Eren can't help but think this man really couldn't give a shit less about giving him a clear answer. Oh, but he'll dig, tooth and nail to get one.

"What did you mean earlier," ignoring the questioning statement altogether, "What choice are you making, and what does it have to do with me?"

"You're too god damned noisy kid."

"If you want me to shut up then stop toying with me and spit it out already."

The tone wasn't appreciated and Levi's eyes narrowed as he repeated 'toying with me' as if it were acid on his tongue. Eren was too outraged to take heed of the prickling chill running up his spine, almost like a warning, his body able to sense what he could not.

"I'm not fucking important! I never was! I probably never will be," Eren's voice was rising, his frustration getting the best of him but he couldn't stop the bile of words from spilling off his lips.

"One minute you're comforting me the next your calling me names, chiding me like a fucking child! Then you come off with this bullshit of not existing without me, what the fuck does that even mean?! I don't know you, you're familiar in a way I can't understand, you mean something to me, which makes even less sense, I don't know anything about you, your full name, your home, your circumstances, where you came from, anything! Everything! Just fucking tell me somethi-."

A hand clasped around his mouth effectively muffling and silencing him, eyes wide in disbelief fuming over the warm palm shoved against his lips.

"You look fucking constipated, keep ranting like that and you might just shit out your entire digestive track. Just. Breathe Eren."

Breathe? Breathe, he wanted him to fucking breathe? At a time like this? His head was pounding, blood pumping so hard he could fucking hear it coursing through his veins. How could he breathe, was he suggesting to him that a few breaths of air would calm him down? He was livid, beyond that even. The more the cycle of Hanji, Mikasa, and Levi's behaviors, words, and treatment circled through his mind the more he felt himself slipping. He was seeing red, Levi was here, and he was the perfect person to let out all his aggression on.

He opened his mouth and bit down, hard. Levi hissed, his face contorted by the teeth pressing into his skin, the canines threatening to break through. When he didn't jerk away, Eren threw a fist, and when Levi caught it he threw another. The shorter male bit out a curse, ripping his hand from the others mouth, tearing a bit of the skin held by Eren's teeth in the process, and caught the other fist immediately shoving the brunette backwards onto the bed. Eren gave a yelp in shock and tried to thrash but his efforts were for not as Levi pinned his fists on either side of his head and straddled his hips. Short legs winding under the longer pair and ankles clasping around each other under Eren's knees to keep a tight lock on his legs, preventing any further movement from them. Eren lets out a frustrated noise low in his throat yelling at Levi to get off of him. He bucks his hips to try to knock the older male off. Tries, even, to twist out of his grip or turn his shoulders to worm his way out, but he realizes it's pointless. Angry tears beading in his eyes as he spits a 'fuck you' in Levi's unfazed face. He turns his head to the side, tired of the expressionless grey orbs glaring down at him, just tired. He gnaws at his lip, settling for watching the pearls of blood slowly gathering and dropping down Levi's hand where his teeth shallowly cut through. He feels a little guilty, but the guilt is still undermined by his rage. The red gathers and drips to his own wrist and eventually the white bedding. Bitter, he wishes this was Levi's bed, so his perfect white sheets would be blemished. It's childish, he's sure, but right now he has nowhere for this pent up frustration to go. Levi just happens to be the one to hit the right buttons at the wrong time.

"Are you finished brat?"

He doesn't even bother to speak, ignoring the urge to glare back he just continues staring at the red fluid soaking into his sheets. The question is pointless, he thinks. It's not like he can do anything in his position. He dully notices the tears wetting the fabric, streaming silently down his cheeks. He doesn't sob, doesn't really cry in the traditional sense. His throat is tight but he's breathing isn't caught, but he cries. He cries, and hates the tears, hates them being onset by his frustration. Hates that his frustration is due to his inability to do anything, and he hates it, hates everything. He wishes the world would swallow him whole, make him disappear that instant, but the weight on his body grounds him. Reminds him that he's still trapped, literally and figuratively, and god all he wants to know is why. At least that, if nothing else, why?

"Please," the begging tone is subdued, so faint even in the silent room.

When he doesn't get an answer he closes his eyes. Assumes that Levi won't tell him. Refuses to tell him. His heads throbbing dully, his anger ebbing away but giving into a darker emotion, h, e doesn't care anymore. He just wants it to end, wants everything to just stop. He doesn't want to do this anymore, doesn't want this forced existence, and pathetic excuse of a life.

"Look at me."

The command is short, leaving no room for argument. Eren doesn't want to look, but he meet the gaze above him anyway.

"Apathy won't get you anywhere kid."

Eren tenses under him, eyes searching, "How?"

"You're easy to read."

Eren accepts the reply but he's not entirely convinced. Levi seems to be able to read him far too well. Is it just that he's a similar case?

"Why are you here?"

"It's my room too brat."  
"You know that's not what a meant," the retort is weaker than before, but the bitter irritation still reverberates in his tone.

"Yeah, I know."

He glares at that and tries asking again.

"My choice," he starts slowly but changes his approach, "have you ever felt like there were gaps in your memories? Things you can't remember, times you can't account for?"

Eren's expression apprehension to the question is all the confirmation Levi needs to continue.

"The smell of the bed sheets triggered a memory," Levi leans down to press his lips against the brunette's neck, "You're this comfortable with me, I'm familiar to you, but why? We're similar aren't we?"

"What are you getting at," the headache was getting stronger. He's ear drums picking every delicate sound as if it were ear-splitting. He was growing more and more overwrought by the second.

"We're alive, breathing, but we're not living. We're pressing forward, marching in line without purpose. Mikasa might be happy marching on as long as she's allowed behind you, but I refuse to lead you along with me."

Exasperated Eren begged for an explanation. He didn't understand. Put it dumbly, word it plainly, and make it comprehensible. Please. Please. Please. Tell him, he wanted to rest, he wanted to get this over with and sleep to rid this horrible migraine eating at his temples and stop the lurching of his insides twisting.

"You can't hold onto us any longer, you have to remember brat."

"W-What am I supposed to remember. I don't understand. I don't understand."

"How long were you in that basement? How long were you really alone? Eren, who got you out? How did you end up here? Where were you before you came here?"

"I told you… I-I told you what happened, why are you… what are you trying to do… why?"

The pain in his head was numbing, his eyes felt like they were being plucked from his head. What was Levi saying? What was he even suggesting? Why, why was the pain getting worse?

"You know damn well, stop blocking it out. Let it go."

The room was spinning, the corners of his vision growing fuzzy and dark. The pain was overwhelming, far too much to handle. Flashes of Levi's face were bleeding into his mind, but the scenery was wrong.

An open door way, the bright back light warping the short figure at the top of the staircase.

There was blood, so much blood.

It soaked into a white scarf staining it red, broken glasses laid next to it, splattered on the face of the one in the doorway who offered his hand.

Arms embrace him from behind, he doesn't move, he doesn't reach forward. Doesn't see the one holding him nor the shadowed face in the doorway.

It's too late, the figure disappears as the door slams shut blocking out the light completely.

Eren slips into unconsciousness.

When he wakes the throbbing still lingers, its dark outside, the lights off in the room. For the first time in a long time he feels the suffocating effect of darkness being wrapped around him. He's afraid, as he stands up from the bed and crosses over the room. He's afraid that once he gets to Levi's bed it will be bare. The sheets will be neat, unused. Frightened that Levi and Mikasa are nothing more than byproducts of his fucked up mind. That he's delusional, insane. Fingers gingerly reach out into the darkness and every second they reach nothing but air he feels the panic building in his gut. Like a mantra he repeats Levi's name in his mind, his hand now hovering a third over the bed.

Halfway over the bed his fingers press into warm fleshy muscle. He nearly chokes back a sob as the panic subsides and he climbs into the neighboring bed, wrapping his arms around Levi's waist and holding him tightly as he silently cries into his shoulder.

"You can't rely on me forever…"  
It's cryptic, and Eren knows this too, knows he can't continue to rely on this man so familiar and so alike him that he can't remember. He can't recall who he is, why he is so important, but he knows now that Levi had been with him for longer than he can recall. That maybe his memories aren't completely intact, maybe they're not even correct. Perhaps he's more fucked than he could have ever imagined, but that's Hanji's territory. Not Levi or his, and he wasn't going to spoil this for them, not now.

"You're the one who saved me aren't you?"

He didn't really expect an answer, nor did he receive one. He wasn't really even sure what he meant about his own question, not the implications and certainly not what he was referring to, but for some reason, beyond him, he knew it was somehow true.

"It's fine," Eren buries himself further into Levi's back, getting as close as their bodies would allow, "I'll remember. I'll sort this all out, but I'm not going to let go of you or Mikasa. However we all fit together, whatever the circumstance."

He doesn't finish. He doesn't need too. The implications are enough, speaking volumes beyond whatever he could ever formulate into words. Levi pulls Eren's arms tighter around himself, not sure at this point whether he was comforting himself or Eren.

"Stupid brat."

In the morning Eren finds himself once again alone in the room. He stares at the ceiling thinking of the confusing events that had taken place. Was he really insane? Was Levi real?

He jolted up in the bed and jumped out, stumbling over to his side as he searched the clean white sheets for that red blemish. His eyes hone in on the clearly dried patch of blood on the otherwise pristine bedding. He immediately searches his own body for any cuts, scratches, anything that could bleed and turns up empty. There was nothing, there is nothing. He didn't get hurt, the blood isn't his. Levi last night, Levi yesterday, Levi, Levi, he was real wasn't he? This was proof. He bolted out of the room, ran downstairs as fast as he could and shot out the door to the yard and headed straight for the tree. He would be there, he was always there.

Sure enough, there he stood, his stature even shorter next to the towering tree. Grey eyes turned to watch his approach, expression flat as ever. Eren took in every minute detail, and once he was close enough, without explanation, he grabbed Levi's hand and found the clear bite mark he left the night before. He pressed it to his cheek and smiled so sweetly so at peace. Levi was here, Levi's blood was on his sheets, he couldn't have left that blood if he hadn't been there.

"Thank god," Eren whispered as he closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. Levi's arms winding around his body, heads resting on each other's shoulders.

"Don't thank god just yet kid…."

Notes: Eren will meet again with Hanji and get some more answers and some more confusion Some more of Eren's past will become clearer as will Levi's and Mikasa's we'll be pulling a mess of memories out of all three of them ~ hopefully I'll begin writing tomorrow ( though this coming chapter it should be quite long so I can't promise I'll post tomorrow ) Thank you guys again for taking the time to read 3


	8. Chapter 8

Notes: So I will teen out here with txt lingo liiiiiiiike OMFG WTF FML was that last chapter? ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ I honestly just ugh... I wrote the last chapter at like midnight with a severe head cold... That was a bad decision on my part ~ My head was way to fuzzy to write and I did it anyway  
(ノД`)・゜・。 I contemplated pulling it and re writing it but fuck lets just move past it and hopefully I can convince you guys ( and myself ) that I didn't just turn this fic into a total train wreck Full recovery mode... Well let's get on with it!

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The nightmares were becoming more frequent, the same case with his headaches. Whenever he closed his eyes, looking for any sort of relief from the light burrowing into his retinas, there were distorted images, flashes of memory that would assault him relentlessly. They were inconsistent, never really sticking to a particular moment of time or person. The strangest part, he found, was that he wasn't always in his own point of view.

Sometimes his field of vision was off. Sometimes he was taller, shorter, lying on the ground, looming over objects or figures. It was constantly changing.

They were vivid, in the way they made him feel. Whether the emotions accompanying the scenes were good or bad, they always made him feel like he was living it. Sometimes it was happiness he never thought he could possibly feel, other times it was despair on a level he would have never known to have existed.

Levi nor Mikasa offered their take or commented on his night recursions. Mikasa only fretted over the dark circles under his eyes, accusing stares pointed at Levi. Levi, himself, would only look at him with a sort of discomfort and desolation reflected in his grey orbs.

Sometimes he would comfort him, try to lull him into sleep on the nights insomnia kept him alert or after he suffered another nightmare, other times he would sit in silence at the window of their room and let him deal with his own fit till he nodded off.

Eren took comfort, at the very least, that he always noticed Levi's hand forming a fist and a conflicted pinch of his brow as he stared out of the panes of glass at those times.

The only consistency in their nightly routine was Levi's single question.

"What do you remember?"

On good days he would explain the flashes, as well as he could. Even describing the physical and emotional toll they cast on him.

On bad days he would turn to the wall, pulling his covers over his body and gnaw at his hand to keep back the childish remarks itching at the tip of his tongue.

He had spoken to Hanji on numerous occasions about the flashes. The gleaming eyes behind her glasses alit with curiosity, barely restrained as she prodded as much as she could. He knew she always wanted to ask more. Which amazed him considering, he was pretty sure at least, she had filled damn near half her notebook each session.

She was particularly fond of asking questions about the memories that didn't revolve around himself. It made him growingly apprehensive; nervous even. He felt like his mind was shattering, questioning every event in his life, even more than that. With his sanity in question he didn't know what to believe anymore.

He didn't know what was real anymore. Assurances he once knew, like the long ago dried blood spot that he refused to clean out of his bed sheets, despite Levi's voiced distaste, no longer grounded him. Things that were tangible could very well just be an elaborate hoax his mind was concocting. If you believe in something, truly believe in it, right or wrong, true or false, could your mind still manage to convince you it were real?

How long has it been now since that night? Months, months he'd been looped around in the same push and pull with Levi and Mikasa. How many months? How many days? Could it have been really just hours, are his concepts of reality that distorted?

In his timeline, in his mind, so many days had passed. It felt much like the anguish he remembered feeling when he could no longer count the days he spent in that basement, if he was even there to begin with.

On this particular night, he was afflicted worse than ever. He woke up retching, his stomach heaving the bile to fill his throat. A layer of sweat dripped over his entire body, hair matted down, tiny hairs plastered to his forehead and neck as he struggled to breathe. His heart was hammering so hard against his chest he was convinced it would shatter his ribcage.

The memory was unthinkable, yet it lay as a thick-like film coating his body, he felt filthy. He wanted it off, wanted to rid himself of the feeling attached to his wet skin. He held himself and dragging his blunt nails down the sides of his arms over and over, trying desperately to peel the skin away.

It wasn't until he hear Levi curse out his name that he realized he was drawing blood, tearing at his own skin. The flesh an angry pink and red hue, fine droplets of blood prickling at the surface of the deeper scratches.

Levi tore Eren's hands away from his arms to prevent him from any further self-harm. Eren fought to rip his arms free, shaking, shuddering, shouting that he needed to rid himself of this horrendous filth clinging to his body. Only when he knew it was hopeless to fight it, Eren went limp in Levi's hold and sobbed.  
"I killed them, I killed them… I k-killed them."

Over and over each syllable more broken than the last. Levi silently gathered him in his arms and carried him to the showers.

Carefully, Levi pulled the soaked of sweat fabric clinging to the brunette's body. Eren stood unsteady on his two feet, making it more of a challenge for the older male to undress him. Once stripped, Levi sat him on one of the benches against the wall before ridding himself of his own clothing.

The shower rooms here were in about the same condition as the bathrooms. Cheap square tiles lined the floor, and the only difference being the walls were painted concrete. The paint was thick, layers of dry lock built up over the years. Benches were connected directly to the wall right before the showers, little cubbies to place your clothing on the side of them, and a locker filled with towels stood in the corner.

Against the two walls opposite each other, were an identical mirror. Shower stalls with curtains barely wide enough to hide the view. The shower heads all small and cylinder, the only perk were that they provided high pressure. Small adjustable mirrors were tacked to the wall in the shower stalls for the main purpose of shaving, since the shower room didn't provide any sinks.

Eren stared at the drain in the center of the floor, not wanting to look anywhere near his own body. He felt light headed, woozy, and more than ever exhausted. Levi had to help him into the shower stall closest to them, sitting him down on the fold down handicap chair offered in this particular stall. There were only two stalls with this little feature, not that it was particularly noteworthy but Eren was trying to find anything to ruminate other than the vermillion coated nightmare that laid him to waste.

It was at that moment his hazel orbs traced the tiles on the floor, eventually lining up to the heels of Levi's feet pressed against their surface. He heard the squeal of the shower knob turning as a spray of water began to splash against the tile.

Eren absentmindedly watched the tendon shift, foot rise and ankle twist as Levi turned toward him. His ankles we sharp and thin. As his eyes moved up slowly he noticed how, despite how it tapered off, the muscles of his legs were well pronounced. The transition of his narrow ankle to his weighted calf unexpectedly proportioned despite the shortness of it.

Levi was calling his name, he could hear him getting annoyed, but he couldn't speak. He felt like if he did the bile that sat just under this throat would spill forth and piss the male off even more. Even only shook his head, as slight as possible. He heard the other male sigh.

Levi crouched down in front of him, pushing his hair back and fixing him with a mock glare. Eren swallowed at the sight of Levi's body. He tried to look directly in the slate grey orbs but found it nearly impossible not to look at the plain sight before him.

Levi's calves, as compelling as they were to examine, couldn't hold a candle to the tight dips and strewn muscle corded around his arms, chest, and torso. It was a stark contrast against his own body, thin enough to see the minuet definition, but still immature and tender.

Levi was speaking to him, something about him being to gross, sweat stunk, and something about getting him clean again. He couldn't listen, his ears were receiving but the signal was not clicking in his head. His mind overwrought with a knife wielded in hands barely large enough to wrap around the handle. His breathing became unsteady again as his hands gripped open and closed, trying to rid the sensation of that same blade digging forward, sinking into flesh.

The sickening wretched feeling of the serrated edge pulling back out, the spray of blood warm as it splattered on his own skin before he plunged the blade down again. Horrified eyes hidden behind the glare of spectacles he knew all too well.

He needed to calm himself; a distraction from the intense sensation overriding his sense and reason. He needed to burn away the image and the feelings prickling at his nerves. Ever so soft, heart wrenching and desperate he whispered Levi's name. The short male tensed as Eren pushed himself onto the other male. Levi, in the awkward position barely caught himself from falling completely backwards against the tile, made to protest. Eren's lips descended on his, unlike the kisses spared between the two this one was different.

Angry and predatory, ruthless and urgent. Holding their weight up with his arms Levi hissed when Eren moved to bite his neck and shoulder. His blunt nails digging into his skin as the brats questing hands paused to grip and roughly massage the hard muscle underneath.

"Eren."

Levi stated this as a warning, his tone harsh and his eyes narrowed, but Eren was too engrossed to listen. Instead he grabbed Levi's hand at the wrist and held it down at an angle, cleverly leaving Levi to lean his weight against his other arm so he couldn't move. He wasn't really thinking, he was just acting on impulse.

The way Levi's skin tasted on his tongue erased the horrid coppery taste of the blood he watched his younger self licked off his lips. Water drenched them overhead, a chill seeping into their bodies where the water couldn't reach. Unlike the lucid dream his hands no longer sinking into flesh, they met hard resistance against Levi's chiseled form. His ears heard short breaths and grunts of frustration rather than the slosh of flesh and wheeze of a last breath filtering through lifeless lungs. He smelt Levi, the stale water, the faint scent of bleach and mold from the room, and it seized the scent of metallic iron freed from once filled veins.

He wasn't a murderous monster. He could be so many things, but he refused, downright refused to believe he could ever be such a manner of beast. He was here, he lived through some unfortunate circumstances, he met alike friends who suffered just as greatly, he was here now, with them, with Levi.

This was real. Levi was real, here with him, it was real. That dream, that nightmare, that consciousness wasn't the truth. He denied it with every touch he spared, every swipe of his tongue against firm warm flesh. This was tangible, this taste, this smell, this touch, this sight of Levi so furious so confused so fucked up. This is real. This had to be real.

The second Eren's grip loosened Levi flipped them over and straddled the other male. Eren's lips parted in a sickening pull of his lips, something too eerie to attribute as a grin. Levi held down his wrists, his form blocking the spray of water from his face. Golden madness seeping into his hazel eyes, as he chuckled to himself breathlessly.

Levi's lips twisted, and Eren swore he saw guilt in his eyes, alongside the array of obtuse emotions swirling behind them. He demanded an explanation from the brunette, an explanation Eren himself couldn't give. The alarming pull of his lips fell down, tears threatening to spill again.

"Forget. Make me forget," the words stumbled out as he stuttered, "You're here aren't you?"

Levi's lips enclosed over his as his answer. The kiss was light, and barely felt due to the previous bruising kiss he forced between them moments before. Once he broke away he sat them both up as began washing them. Eren once again boneless under Levi's care. He was surprised he hadn't complained, amazed he didn't get any sort of reprimanding when he was dried and dressed then helped back into the room.

Not bothering to change Eren's bedding, Levi laid them both in his own bed. Eren's arms stung, but that didn't stop him from wrapping them around Levi's waist as tightly as he could.

"Tomorrow you need to speak with Hanji Eren."

It wasn't a recommendation, it was a command. He wasn't giving any option to the brunette, and he knew he didn't have the right to refuse Levi's request. Especially not after what happened, or rather what could have happened if Levi hadn't put a stop to it.

He buried his head into Levi's chest, and rather than grunt, piss or moan about it, Levi once again put up with it and comforted him without another word.

Notes: So in short - we're going to be dealing with a basket case Eren for a bit... what am I even doing? I have it set in my head what I want to develop - thats really all the justification I have φ(￣ー￣ )ノ


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Notes: I meant for this to be longer... but I wanted to give you guys an update on this one and I planned on this particular chapter being out days ago so... I apologize in advance but 9 pages isn't horrrrrribly short We're going to speed through and clear up some confusion - Thank you for all the reviews/kudos/hits/etc so on so forth ~ 3 Enjoy

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

"What happened to my father?"

Hanji froze in her writing, which didn't go unnoticed by Eren, before slowly lifting her head with a forced smile.

"You haven't brought up such a question before," she said carefully, "What brought on the sudden interest?"

Hazel eyes didn't even blink as he stared impatiently. His appearance was nearly haunting. His eyes looked bruised by the dark circles lying under them, lips chapped and skin drained of its healthy tone. The white bandages wrapping his forearms, compliments of Levi, nearly blending in against him. He barely slept, the night hadn't been peaceful even with Levi's company, though he had managed to feel a little more rested in spite of it.

"I didn't care before," monotone and flat, the tone making even Hanji uncomfortable, unused to hearing it used by Eren.

"I see…"

The way Hanji's eyes were analyzing him caused his mood to darken further, not at all pleased with the scrutinizing look. He needed her to answer his question; needed to hear it for himself. Whether or not his father was in jail, rotting in a cell in close quarters of another inmate or if he wasn't where was he? Was he on the loose? Were they looking for him? What part of his memories were fact, what were fiction? Was his father ever really mad to begin with? Was he, at this very moment, buried and gone?

Was he murdered?

"Have you had any other nightmares lately you wish to tell me about?"

Eren's eyes narrowed, trying his damnedest not to snarl as his lips pulled back against his teeth.

"What happened to him?"

"…To? Eren, is this about one of your dreams?"

It was peculiar in the way that he was asking, he knew, and he knew Hanji would immediately pick up on it; which she undoubtedly had. Regardless, he was in no mood for her to start this endless back and forth conversation they were accustomed to. The force at which he pushed himself up to his feet pushed back the small couch a fraction. The sound of the wooden pegs screeched loudly with the short distance, giving way to his outburst.

"God dammit! Just answering the fucking question!"

His eyes widened as he watched her jolt in his seat, hand moving under her desk. He was positive his middle and index were just barely brushing the panic button to alert the staff to come in. He had seen plenty being drugged and dragged out of the room for misbehaving, but he had never warranted such a thing himself.

All he wanted was for her to answer this one question. To give him some peace of mind was all that he was asking. One simple fucking question. What the hell had Hanji so on edge that she would react so guardedly? Was she… could she be afraid of him?

The thought had him laughing under his breath as he pushed a shaking hand through his hair, "You're scared of me."

"Eren I'm not…"

"You are," he accused in a gruff tone; the humor leaving his face completely.

"You're just a little high strung is all, you need rest."  
"Don't you think I know that? Do you think I want to have these fucking dreams? Last night, last night…"

He trailed off his eyes searching the air in front of him for a way to put his thoughts into words.

"He's dead isn't he? I killed him. In my dream, the door was left open. It was just this sliver of light, then there was red, crimson, his blood Hanji."

His eyes were tearing as he lifted his palms just below his eye level facing upward. He tested a squeeze and release motion in both hands, bitter salted tears tracking down to his lips as he looked forward to Hanji again.

"I felt it. I felt the knife. I felt his skin collapse around the blade. I can still feel it. I had to get rid of it, I just couldn't… I ended up… and Levi he…I-I…. fuck."

"Eren breathe," Hanji ordered hand never moving from its spot under the desk. If things escalated any further she really wouldn't have a choice.

"What about Levi?"

"Last night… when I woke up. I got sick, I threw up. Levi brought me to the showers to wash us off and I… I wanted to stop it you know?"

He looked at Hanji desperate for understanding but all he saw was a hint of pity she wasn't able to hide.

"I forced myself on him…," Eren quickly followed up on his statement, "I stopped, he stopped me, I didn't do anything. I just…"

The air was stale, and it felt then like all the oxygen in the room was syphoned out. Hanji remained silent, calculating in his gaze. Her mind trying to catch up with the possibilities, or maybe she was still just frightened by him, he didn't really know. Though now he couldn't blame her.

If he lashed out like this with Hanji, if he almost forced himself on Levi, if his dream wasn't really a dream, was he really just a ticking bomb? Was he any better than a monster? He tried to convince himself otherwise, repeated over and over how he wasn't, couldn't be, but how could he say that if he couldn't separate fact from fiction; if he didn't even know himself.

If it were true, if any of it were true. That dream, that nightmare… was he acting on revenge or was it something else entirely. In his current state of mind, what worried him the most, more than anything, he was afraid he would really hurt someone close to him. His thoughts were occupied of the same scarlet liquid gushing from an inch long narrow wound, the skin pierced. It could be Hanji, Levi, even Mikasa.

It became an almost too real image as he imagined the firm resistance of Levi's abdomen giving way. The sensation on his hands from the night before, and the sensation of his nightmare merging as one. Possibilities of even Mikasa, soft as he held her, slipping through his fingers, fleshing ripping between his grip. He couldn't shake them, the notion locked in his head for his mind to rampage.

A wave of dizziness buckled his knees as he collapsed back onto the couch holding his head in his hands. The sounds in the room were getting fainter, his breath was louder and heavier as he nearly choked on a sob.

"Han-ji… H-Hanji please. Please help me, I don't know what to do. Tell me what to do."

"Eren, listen to me carefully, breathe and listen to my voice," Hanji spoke softly as she relaxed her hand from under the desk and moved out of her chair and closer to the boy. He was rattled, weak, and vulnerable, more so than she ever remembered him being. This was different from when he first came here, nearly unresponsive and withdrawn.

No. This was far worse, far more devastating. The sight of Eren breaking in front of her was unbearable. She had many patients, numerous to the point where memorizing names was nothing of a short miracle. Eren, by far, her most interesting, most catastrophic case, meant something more to her than most. Someone who was so chaotic, so jostled by his own environment and merciless mind; she had invested so much researching into him, and at first it was superficial. A selfishness intended only to further her own knowledge, perhaps even make a ground breaking discovery, but over time he grew on her. He was without doubt one of her most tragic cases, and one she resolved on seeing through to his complete recovery.

Her only hesitation lie in the consequences of how much she revealed. How much could she tell him without further damaging his already fragile psyche? If she divulged him with too much too quickly he could revert or even end up worse than the shell of a boy he was when he entered the home. She had high hopes that he would one day lead a normal life and she would tread as carefully and consistently as possible to ensure that. Either way, even disclosing the slightest amount would have its repercussions.

She took Eren's hands into hers, removing them from his face. Crouched in front of him she dipped her head to catch his eyes, leveling them with hers, a gentle expression, not quite a smile, cross her features.

"Eren breathe with me ok? In and out, just like me."

He matched her breath as best he could till his heart slowed down and headache eased to a dull thudding against his skull. A few minutes went by to get him regulated, bringing him down from his near panicked state, before she even dared to speak.

"Alright, good, very good Eren. Now I need you to hear me out. You need to let me finish speaking before you come up with any of your own conclusions, do you understand? Not everything I say, at first, is what it seems. There are a lot of details we need to cover, very important details, that will take on a completely new light from where they seem to be going."

She waited for his nod before she tried again.

"Every last word. You need to listen to everything I say before you respond or so much think about it, alright?"

He nodded again and this time she looked a bit more serious, "Eren I need to hear you promise me, you can't let your emotions get the best of you. This is of the utmost importance."

"I-I… understand," his voice was hoarse when he spoke; he hadn't known how tight it was until he tried to speak again. He took one last deep breath before steeling himself for whatever may come.

"When you were taken here, we didn't take you alone."

The brunette's eyes widened his mouth dropping as if to speak but quickly snapping shut as he waited for Hanji to continue.

"At the time, you weren't in the basement, however," she rushed out before Eren could attempt to speak or allow his mind to wander again, "there is evidence that clearly suggests you had been down there for quite some time. It is certainly safe to assume that what you remember about your mother and father is true. You're mother had passed away from a terminal illness, that was on record, and your father had locked you away in that basement after a mental collapse following your mother's death. We can't specifically nail down the details of the and why, but clearly you were held captive in that basement, so in this we can only go off what you recall."

She allowed the boy to digest this, she saw the sharp bob of his throat as he swallowed eyes closing tightly as he continued to take deliberately slow steady breaths through his lungs to keep himself grounded.

"Did… my father let me out, was he the one who was with me? Is he in another hospital?"

The idea that his father realized the error of his ways and got help or even that someone picked up on what was happening and called it in, gave him hope. Perhaps, his father was alive and working at his own recovery. Maybe he regretted his decisions or even if he were never capable for such compassion it was a relief in the idea that that dream, that nightmare, maybe it wasn't real. Somewhere his father was alive, breathing, blood flowing rhythmically through his veins.

The hopeful sting of thoughts were crushed the moment he opened his eyes to gauge her expression. The soft look more notably forced now, and her pressed lips barely hiding her set jaw.

"Your father's body was found in the basement but Eren the autopsy confirmed it would have been impossible for you to have done it, at the time you were almost too weak to walk let alone carry out any type of aggressive attack. You couldn't have overpowered anyone at the time, not in the condition you were in, and even catching someone with surprise, you wouldn't have had the strength to be able to cause those wounds. It wasn't you Eren, I promise you. It could not have been you."

She annunciated her last two sentences making sure that Eren had no room for doubt. She was surprised to find Eren actually level, not reacting nearly as badly as she had originally feared. She watched as his mouth and brow pinched then relaxed, lips parting with silent words as she assumed he was talking to himself. She wanted to give him time to let this all sink in.

In the best case scenario, he might even recall some new memories. Hanji made sure to give him just the bare minimum of detail, so she hadn't a change to trigger an assault of recollections. She wouldn't tell him the nitty gritty nor did was she bold enough to tell him about the condition of the body when they found it.

Whatever had transpired exactly would remain a mystery, it was true Eren had not been the one to kill his father, she hadn't been lying when she said that much. What she didn't tell him was the multitude of stab wounds littering his body or the ghastly bruises and twisted bones from being unceremoniously pushed down the stairs. The scene itself had been quite horrifying, it was no wonder Eren couldn't remember, anyone at his age would have blocked it out. His father had been murdered, and the corpse left to decompose in the same basement he left his son to rot in, it was really quite ironic.

"Was he stabbed?"

Hanji was taken aback by the question but decided it best to be at least that honest, "Yes."

This at least tied in some loose knowledge surrounding the events of last night, and why the nightmare shook Eren so badly. His case was certainly becoming more interesting, despite this, because it was Eren she couldn't feel nearly as excited as she would have been years ago.

"If I didn't do it why do I have the memory of it? Hanji…. Why can I feel it as if I did it myself?"

"At the time it's not out of the question that the emotional trauma affected not only what you remember but how you remember it. It's not impossible, there are cases of people capable of convincing themselves they've felt or done things they've never actually experienced, the minds a tricky thing, but fickle as it is I stand by my promise. It wasn't you."

"Who then," soft whisper left his lips as he decided he didn't want to know the rest. He wanted to focus us the missing areas, the gaps he couldn't fill in himself, and those gaps could be filled by whomever was with him.

"Who?"

"Who was with me, you said I wasn't alone. Are they still here? You said you took two of us didn't you?"

Hanji adverted her eyes, he was certainly astute when he needed be, she quickly scanned over the possibilities of progress or regression should Eren know the truth. It was a gamble, a risk, and one she prayed she wouldn't regret as the name spilled forth into the hushed room.

"Levi."

Notes: Well Levi wtf... we'll tackle that next chapter!


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Notes: So here's the thing~ I wanted this to be longer - but I am just waaaaay to out of it to be writing something this angst-y ~ Usually it helps to be a little out of it because it helps the writing process to get into a similar mood as the characters I'm writing but wow... yeah... waaaaaay to depressed for this shit BUT I promised a chapter so forgive me if it's too short - My next update will be another story to add to the Idol Worship Series - I need to write something fun and easy going till I stomp out this slump I'm in ~ anyway please enjoy!~

Chapter Text

It took quite some time from the moment Hanji spoke of Levi's name before his mind let it soak in. Levi was there with him, somehow, but at what point and for how long? Questions arose, buzzing in his mind and making him feel dizzy, and eventually, angry even. What had Hanji to gain from feigning ignorance about Levi when he had first mentioned him to her? Why hadn't he seen or been told about Levi before? Was it really possible, over all these years that just now Levi entered, or rather, reappeared in his life?

With that last bit of information shoving him back off his feet, Hanji had decided it had been enough for that day. For once, Eren was grateful. He didn't know whether or not it would be worth it to bombard the woman with a barrage of questions. He probably wouldn't get any closer to the truth of his past with her anyway. She baited him with just enough information to appease him, but he wasn't stupid enough to think it wasn't for a reason. He knew she would only tell him what she deemed to be necessary and leave all else up to him. He needed to get by on his own efforts far more than by Hanji's help alone.

It was too suffocating. He felt stupid, bewildered, tormented. Levi was there but he never said so, not one god damned word. Albeit, he had hinted to some sort of past between the two of them, he could have never imagined that Levi implied meeting him during that point and time. It was more than reasonable, in his mind, that that information was something that shouldn't have been merely suggested. And even more disturbing, he couldn't remember any of it.

Rather than seek Levi out immediately, he went to his room and sat on the edge of Levi's bed. He didn't have it in him to sit on his own bed, the raw emotions that bubbled over from the night before, fresh again after the meeting with Hanji.

He noticed his bedding had been stripped clean as he glanced over to his area of the room. Surely Levi took the liberty of cleaning his mess from the night before and while now the bed was immaculate once again, he didn't want to go anywhere near it. He didn't want to sit down and futilely look for the small stain of blood he knew he would no longer find on the pressed white sheets. Though, he supposed now it wouldn't serve any real purpose. Not anymore, not knowing, with what Hanji said, Levi and himself had been found together, but the idea of it still stung.

He was just appreciative that Levi currently was not in the room. He needed some time alone, and he honestly wasn't sure if he could handle seeing the other male at the moment, less he do something he'd later regret. With that in mind, he felt even worse about how he had acted last night in the shower. Even though Levi wasn't as angry as Eren though he should have been, it didn't lessen his regret in the slightest. He wasn't even really aware of himself at the time or of what he was doing. It was like his body had a will of its own and all he wanted was to selfishly divulge himself in the raven to rid himself of his own troubles.

Levi had a rough manner of speaking, he was blunt and relatively indifferent most of the time. More so with others than himself, never the less, he wasn't the most approachable person ever. He felt a strong sense of pride in being as close to Levi as he was, even if it wasn't much by normal standards, but on the same token, that only made him feel worse about forcing himself on top of the older male. Levi held a certain level of trust in him that he hadn't given anyone else, and there was something more behind that still. Something that translated in the comforting feather like touches and smooth lips kissing his skin. A promise of some unbreakable bond the two had, unexplained and mystifying, and he betrayed that.

But where had this connection between them begin and end? He wracked his brain for any hints regarding his past with Levi. Trying to pull any form of memory out of his ass on whim and will alone. It had been so long that he felt this bothered by his past, while certain events as of late had shook him to the core, this revelation was on a different level altogether. He was ashamed that someone like Levi could so easily be dismissed from his past. There was not even the slightest bit of familiarity between the two of them when they had first met, not but a short time ago.

He rubbed his throbbing temples and choked back an aggravated grunt, causing it to squeak in an embarrassingly high pitch whine. It only served to anger him more as he flung himself forcefully back on the bed, "For fucks…"

The words died in his throat and the anger ebbed away almost as quickly as it came. Instead a sense of overpowering helplessness grew in his chest. His ribs felt heavy against his lungs, each breath, he swore, he could feel his lungs constricting and expanding under pressure, limited against his anxiety. His heart felt like it was missing, leaving empty and hollow space in his chest. He tried to focus on its beating, wanting to hear the rhythmic thrumming, but even in the near silent room he couldn't focus properly.

A groan and he turned over, grabbing and burying his head into Levi's pillow, shamelessly taking comfort in the smell that lingered. He took a deep breath through his nose, allowing the deep scent to rinse through his tired senses, not even realizing just how exhausted he was as he was lulled into a deep sleep.

Sometime later, a soft knocking jerked him from his comatose-like sleeping state. He didn't bother to move, he didn't want to be bothered. Mind fogged from sleep, all he wanted was to return to rest. He didn't want to think anymore. He didn't want to deal with whatever bullshit would follow, an odd contrast from his previous mind set of demanding answers, but in this hazy afterbirth of sleep, all he wanted was to never have to wake up again.

The knock came again. He curled in on himself and clamped his mouth and eyes shut as tight as he could.

Just go away. Go away. Go away. Just go away.

Like a prayer, he continued to repeat himself over and over in his mind, until he felt the fuzzy corners pulling at him. Blankets held against his chin, he felt the world around him shifting. Sleep, he just wanted to sleep. Nothing else, nothing more. Just rest.

The scent of lavender and honey. Warmth sticky against his skin, despite this he held the soft cotton blankets around him. A gentle humming soft and feminine, the sound of clicking from the propane stove. The sound of a soft crack, a barely audible plop of, what he assumed was an egg, hitting the pan. A melody in the background, of birds chirping and cicadas, every so often, joining in for a chorus. Soft light filtered through, the warm rays bathing his skin and reflecting off his eyes.

This was home. Home, with beige tiled floors and dark stained cabinets. Home, where he sat in their large bay window's cushioned ledge right off the kitchen. Home, where if he just took a few steps onto the hardwood floor that transitioned to tile he could see who was humming and shuffling cookware.

"Er-n."

The voice was muffled, sounding like it was almost underwater, but it wasn't coming from the woman humming in the other room. The voice, as unclear as it was, was lower, familiar. But he was content here, in this space. Content listening to the preparation of food and the faint wafting smell making its way toward him. Happy to stay settled where he was.

His chest felt light, his head floating and drowsy, but pleasantly so.

"Er—."

His eyes shifted behind him to the bright lit scenery just beyond the glass. The landscape bathed in bright highlighted tones, colors magnificent and inviting. He imagined, as the tree leave and long grass swayed, the cool breeze bathing over his skin. In awe of the blue jays, leaping with a single flap of their wings, from tree to tree. In awe of the squirrels which cycled around the trunk of the tree, spinning around as they climbed up further and disappeared into the canopy and the bee and butterflies, sparse as they were, landing on flower petals gold, red, and orange.

"Ere-."

He liked it here. It was calm, simple. The sights and sounds warm, luminescent. The drowned out voice becoming clearer as he turned away from the window, shadows becoming more prominent in the room. He felt like he was forgetting something, something was missing, wasn't it? But he was home, he belonged here. The women humming, cooking, in the other room, it was his mother. Dad would wake up soon to eat with them once she was finished. Mother would have his newspaper set out, coffee ready on the hot plate, waiting to be poured. Mother who set the table, and poured a tall glass of orange juice for him. The kind with hints of pineapple and banana, his favorite. She was perfect, kind, beautiful. His mother with chocolate brown hair and stunning hazel eyes, and her smile…

"Eren."

His mother.

"Eren!"

She was…

"Eren!"

He grasped his head as he heard the glass cracking behind him, the creak of the wood underneath him groaning like a ship ready to bend and sink. His mother, how did he know she had chocolate brown hair? How did he know about his eye color? He couldn't remember, why? Why? The room shook, the light seeped away, receding into darkness, pitch black and cold. The roar of the home collapsing around him. He couldn't breathe.

"Eren!"

His eyes shot open wide as he took a gasping breath. He froze trying to focus on where he was. The room was bathed in a golden glow, the sun now lowering on the horizon. He had been sleeping? It felt so much stronger than just a dream.

"Eren, are you alright?"

The voice was clear now, he slowly turned to it, surprised to see Mikasa hovering over him with a worried expression.

"I-I'm fine… I had a strange dream."  
Her lips parted and paused, as if unsure whether or not she should speak but eventually did.

"Why are you crying?"

He blinked, confused, and sure enough, he brought his hand up to his cheeks to feel tears streaking down them. His mouth fluttered like a goldfish as he tried to figure out just why he had been crying, but it only made his head ache. He couldn't recall the dream, it was gone and though he hadn't remembered what it was he dreamt of, he felt a longing to be back to it.

"I don't… What time is it?"

He scrubbed off his eyes and changed the subject quickly. Though to be honest, he could figure around what time of day it was just by the hue of the light from outside, and he really couldn't care less either way.

"It's after five. You didn't come to dinner, I was worried."

"You shouldn't worry so much."

Despite saying this he motioned for her to hug him. She faintly blushed, though he knew it wasn't the same type of blush he shared with Levi. It was a warm pride that flushed her cheeks whenever he needed her, and she knew if he was craving physical contact, that he did, indeed at the moment, need her for comfort.

Wordlessly, after adjusting her scarf, she leaned down and held him in her arms. Eren held back just as tightly. The position was awkward, Mikasa bent at the waist in front of him, leaning forward to keep her contact with him. Eren ticked, muttering something about being uncomfortable and pulled her with a sharp tug on the bed next to him.

She squeaked uncharacteristically and they both shared a laugh. As fragile a laugh as it was, it was genuine. She teased him for rough housing a girl, and he snipped at her to shut up with a grumble, no real ill intent in his words, rather more affectionate. Once the laughter died down he rested his head on her chest as she brushed her fingers through his messy hair. To anyone else the scene would seem intimate, and in a sense it was. They were family, in their own minds, as good as blood. The bond they shared together was strong, even amongst the pointless bickering and nagging. It just went to show how close they really were, that they were so protective of one another that they couldn't help but butt heads at times. She meant the world to him as he to her.

"I was scared," she admitted softly.

Eren shifted onto his elbow beside her, studying her face underneath his.

"Scared of what? I'm fine, it was just dinner."

"With Levi…"

She stopped her sentence at the twisted scowl that warped his features. Once he had realized he did so he forced them back into a more passive look.

"Levi's nothing to worry about. Nothing will happen."

"He could take you away from me."

At this he was dumbstruck, flustered even that she would think such a ridiculous thing, but he wouldn't get angry at her. At least not outwardly, he didn't want to worry her even more, she didn't deserve to be lashed out at.

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm not leaving you. Mikasa you know that."

"But what if he…"

"No buts," Eren cut her off, not wanting his temper to get the best of him. He leaned forward and placed a small kiss on her forehead before pinching her nose, which she immediately batted away.

"You promise," she tried anyway.

Eren groaned dramatically to hide his real irritation at her insecurity and in an exasperated voice he whined, "I proooooomise."

"Good."

"Ooooomuuufff!"

She knocked him back on the bed and this time situated herself to use him as a pillow. He, in turn, pet her head as she had, though a bit clumsier. He couldn't understand this weird rivalry between Levi and Mikasa. Perhaps, if it was only because Mikasa thought Levi would somehow steal him away, it was a bit more understandable. Silly, but at least there was a reason for it; ridiculous as it were.

At that thought he wondered how long it would be before Levi made his way back to the room. It was getting late after all, and the sun was beginning to set. He had so much he needed to talk about, so much ground they would need to cover, and so many things he couldn't even begin to hope to understand. And though he slept for so long already, and Mikasa had brought him some comfort, the dream that lingered in an incoherent blur and the still noticeable hollowness in his chest, kept him feeling exhausted and ragged.

As he slowly found sleep calling out to him once again, he felt the soft press of lips on his forehead and a pained, perplexing whisper from his departing sister.

"Please stay Eren."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Notes: Thank you all for being so unbelievably patient with me! I know I don't "have" to apologize but I truly want to! Thank you all so much for your support and I hope to continue to hear from you ! I'm going to post updates on how these chapters are coming along on my tumblr ~ You can track them at fic: To Exist or fic: -

Chapter Text

Tugging the strap of his bag to spin in around in front of him, he zipped open the front pocket and dug out his keys. Unlocking the door, he turned the knob and pushed it open before setting upon his routine. He took off his shoes before stepping inside, picking them up and neatly placing them on the black rubber mat, to the left of his doorway, as he walked in. He closed his door, making sure to twist the knob first for a silent click as he pulled it shut. Hanging up his backpack on the coat hanger fastened to the wall, he rolled his neck and began stripping off his work clothes.

With the soiled clothes in hand, he walked through his small studio to the only other room of his current living space, the bathroom. Tossing the dirty clothing in the hamper he quickly moved to the shower, not wanting to delay scrubbing the accumulated daily grime. Adjusting the temperature as he saw fit, he pulled back the curtain and stepped inside. A loose sigh of relief left his lips as the water hit his skin. He only took pause for a moment. Enjoying the warm water wash over him. Grabbing his sponge, he lathered it with body wash before setting on scrubbing every inch of skin. Next, shampoo, then conditioner, and while he let the conditioner sit for a minute or two, he washed his face. Only after did he then proceed to rinse out his hair, turning off the warm spray of water, stepping out onto the fluffy bath mat and grabbing a towel.

Dry, towel around his waist, he applied lotion to his face, neck, and shoulders then combed his black hair back with his fingers. Not caring to style it just yet in favor of getting something to eat. Like hell he would ever eat the shit they served at the restaurant he was working. It was amazing, the amount of health code violations they skimmed over.

Frying up a fish and egg, he brought a pot to boil for a side of soba noodles. Adding a bit of salt for flavor, and setting aside some dipping sauce for the noodles, he set his plate and moved to sit down in the small eat in kitchen.

He was lucky to have one of the nicer studios, albeit, it still was rather small. Perhaps, barely reaching 400 square feet. But it was enough for him, and it wasn't like he owned too much anyway. The kitchen was just a tiny cut out space in the otherwise square room, a short divide separating it from the living area. His bed, a futon currently folded up into a couch, sat in the corner, and other than the long dresser with a book shelf balanced on top of it, and a small closet he used for storage, there was really not much else. He took pride in the cleanliness he exercised in the apartment. Despite its small size and how easily it could appear messy, he kept it spotless. A hint of the lemon scented cleaner he used lingering, the lack of clutter allowing him to relax completely.

Clearing his plate, he immediately washed his dish and set it aside on the drying rack. He moved over to the closet to throw on a pair of sweat pants and to dig his phone out from his bag. Cotton sweats on, and tapping the phone in his palm with his index, he sat down on the futon with a tired sigh.

The only part of his routine that was missing, was the energetic little enigma known as Eren Jaeger.

It surprised him, even now, how the brat would come to invade his thoughts every now and again.  
He couldn't remember how long it had been since he'd last seen the Jaeger's. Not since Eren's mother's death. It had probably been a good couple of years since that time, but every so often the thought of the little brat would itch at him.

Growing up he had been introduced by chance, and often spent a lot of time under Carla's, Eren's mother, care. His living situation had always been less than ideal, and in seeing this, Carla took it upon herself to give him a place to stay when he needed or a hot meal. He spent a lot of his time with Carla and her son. Eren, whom at his age was fairly independent despite being so feeble, demanded most of his attention whenever he visit.

Carla, herself, taught him good values she took pride in, love and care, how to cook and clean. Simple things children often take for granted with their parents. What Levi had once thought of as the norm, from his own parents, quickly clarified in his mind on what a parent should be. In fact, it had mainly been under the influence of Carla that he emancipated himself from his parents. Though during the year long struggle that ensued, he didn't have any time to visit.

Shortly after he received his new found freedom, he learned of Carla's death. He was proud of himself for succeeding, and Carla was much like a mother to him as well. He had been excited to show her the official papers, catch up with her and her son and perhaps even discuss future plans he had been entertaining. He looked forward to spending time with them again. Helping Carla with Eren and the house and chores and seeing how much Eren had grown over his year long absence. He imagined the wide smile on Carla's face as she would excitedly clap her hands together before drawing him into a tight hug, showering with praise over his more promising future.

When he arrived at their home, folder in hand and the beginning of a smirk pulling on his face, it was then, right on the front steps of their home, he was told about Carla. Grisha had been the one to answer the door. The man looked exhausted, haunted even. Before he even spoke the words, his face had fallen knowing something was terribly wrong.

Around that time, Eren couldn't have been more than perhaps six or seven. Levi literally felt his heart drop into his stomach once the words left the man's lips. Thoughts of the happy go lucky child having to deal with something as traumatic as losing his mother at such a young age pained him. He wanted nothing more than to run into the boy's room, and do what, he didn't know, but he wanted to 'something' to comfort him. Perhaps not with words, he was never good with words. Maybe just his presence would be enough? Maybe the brat just needed some additional support to cry it all out, ask questions he wouldn't know how to answer, but he'd be there and that was at least something for the kid.

Whatever the case, he just knew he wanted to see Eren. He wanted to make sure the bright mirthful eyes still shone with some sort of glee. He wanted to make sure that that part of Eren would not disappear along with his mother.

At his request to see the Eren, a manic flash that should have triggered alarm, reflected in Grisha's eyes. At the time, Levi simply chalked it up to grief. Losing one's wife, especially one of whom had bore his child, certainly could throw anyone into despair. Grisha, simply sent him away, telling him Eren was in no state for visitors without further explanation.

Hesitantly, he offered his condolences and apologies, then promised to call ahead of time before his next visit. For every time he called, the call was ignored or he was denied. When he asked about Eren, he would always receive the same response. 'He's fine.'

Days turned to weeks, turned to months, until finally Levi realized Grisha would never tell him to come over. He had never known Grisha very well, so it seemed likely that the man simply didn't want Levi around. After all, it was Carla who tended to him, and her husband was rarely, if ever home despite all the hours he spent in their house. Unfair as it were, there wasn't much else he could do.

Lately, however, he did maul over the idea of visiting Eren's school. Though, honestly when he thought about it, he couldn't help but think how much of a creep he would seem. He wasn't family, he'd be turned away immediately and probably reported to Grisha directly.

How old would he be now? Ten, perhaps? It had been ages since he last attempted a visit. Falling back on the bed, he held his phone within view, twisting it in his hand. Perhaps, just maybe, it had been so long after all. Years, but he couldn't bury that important piece of his life no matter how much he tried, and Eren was the only piece left of it. Tossing his phone on the bed next to him he rolled over, burying his head into his pillow, stretching his arm under it and shutting his eyes.

Tomorrow was his day off. To hell with Grisha, he'd stop by and see the little brat. He just hoped, in the meantime, they hadn't bothered to move. With the thought of how the years treated the little tike, and how big he must have grown by now, Levi eased into a comfortable rest.

Levi stood on the side walk at the edge of the path that led to the old home. The home itself, looked relatively the same. The only major difference were the overgrown weeds, in the once immaculate garden, and the neglected lawn. It seemed it was let go for at least a few weeks. Not too tall as to reach up too high, but tall enough to brush midway up the calf. He also noticed how the windows looked a bit dingy, fogged slightly from the dust accumulated on them. He could only imagine the interior with a frown.

Carla always took pride in how orderly her home was, especially with having a little guy of her own terrorizing the place. It stung, reminding him, really nailing it in, that she, indeed, was gone. Even after all these years, the wound was still just as fresh. Lingering memories of her favorite scented cleaners and detergents, products he religiously used himself, even to the present.

Shoving the thoughts from his mind, he tried to steel himself. There was no sense in dwelling about it now. It was an event come to pass and he would just have to move forward, as he hoped, Eren and Grisha had as well.

Walking up the path, he climbed the couple stairs to the door and knocked. He didn't hear anything from within, but it was strange. The car was in the driveway, and it was a Saturday afternoon. He highly doubted they wouldn't be awake by now, and Eren was what? Ten? A ten year old would be raging havoc with a constant pitter patter of frenzied feet, playing about.

He tried knocking once more, feeling a bit unnerved at the prevailing silence on the other side of the door. Maybe they left? Maybe the car was left behind. The prospect frightened him more than he imagined it would. The last remnant of Carla and Eren seeming to slip through his fingers, even more, he felt the near desperate need to see the little brat.

Perhaps, they were in the back yard?

Levi walked around the home, praying the neighbors wouldn't find it too suspicious to see a teen his age stalking around. When he looked over the short fence, not finding a trace of toys or any sign of life, his frown deepened, pulling at his brow. It was odd. He at least expected to see a ball or bike or something, but perhaps Eren wasn't an outdoorsy kind of kid?

His tongue peaked through his lips and as he drew it back into his mouth he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, biting it in a moment of contemplation before swiping his thumb and index over the corner of his mouth.

If the neighbors had seen him and hadn't thought anything strange of him before, they certainly would now. A bit flustered at what he was doing, he peered through the windows, at a reasonable height, one by one. Each window displayed the home devoid of any life, but more disturbing, was the tell-tale signs that it was still lived in.

He wanted to believe that maybe Eren became much more passive in his years. Perhaps he calmed down and even at ten, maybe he matured beyond his years. Maybe, there were a lot of maybes, but those maybes itched at him as more likely than not, rather as excuses. Something remained knotted in his stomach, twisted and foreboding. Humans may, arguably, not have true instincts, but Levi knew to trust his gut.

He cursed under his breath and prayed that he wasn't over reacting, prayed that he was over reacting. Completely in conflict with what he should be feeling at the moment, he cursed again and hopped the fence into the back yard. At worst, he would get caught and reprimanded, everything would be an embarrassing misunderstanding, and he would end up with a mess of apologies trying to convince Grisha that he had good intentions.

Checking the back door to find it locked, he clicked his tongue before looking around the yard again. He felt absolutely ridiculous, this was complete and under bull shit. What the fuck was he doing?

His eyes trailed to the hatch like doors that led to the basement. The doors were merely held by a latch, a small rusted lock in place. He wandered closer, picking the lock up in his hands and sighed. Rusted as it was, he'd have to take a shovel to it to get in.

He remembered Carla mentioning her husband often working at home in the basement when he was home, and he couldn't help but wonder if maybe he still had the same habit? With one final effort, he located the nearest window that lay pinched between the cinder block of the house's foundation.

With the caked on dirt and dust and heaven or hell knows what, it made it damn near impossible to see through. Using his hand, hovering above his eyes like a hood to block the sunlight, he laid on his stomach and got closer, nearly pressing to the glass in an attempt to see through. His vision was spotty at best. It was fairly dark, and more than likely safe to presume that no one would be downstairs with the lights off.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

He froze at the stern voice, slowly turning toward the back door where, lo and behold, Grisha stood. Apparently, his assumption of the man not sleeping in was off by a mile. Levi stood, dusting himself off, taking in the sight of the man as he spoke an apology and tried to explain himself. The tall brunette had obviously had it rough since he last saw him. Grisha had always been rather lanky, but now it was alarming how thin he became and how sharp his cheekbones now were.

"I knocked earlier and no one answered. I was worried you two may have moved."

It wasn't the whole truth, but it wasn't a lie either.

"Two?"

Levi's brow furrowed, that sinking feeling returning with vengeance, "Yes… You and Eren. Where is he anyway? May I see him?"

Grisha's expression darkened as he nodded his head, "Right, Eren."

The way Eren's name rolled off his tongue only escalated the tense pressure squeezing inside his gut. It was bitter, strained, and resentful, nothing about the way the syllables rolled off his tongue sounded like a father speaking of his son. He was becoming more and more uncomfortable. Everything was screaming at him that something was off, each detail since he arrived in front of this house, a red flag to tip him off.

"He's not home."

"He's not home," Levi questioned back, and followed up with another question of his own, "When will he be back."

"You don't need to concern yourself with him."

Levi pointed a glare to match the hollow gaze directed at his own.

"With all due respect, Sir. I feel I should."

"Respect or not you're trespassing on my property."

"I understand, and I'll leave… as soon as I see Eren."

The noticeable flinch at the name was impossible to miss. Nor was the growing aggravation on the man's features and the square of his shoulders.

"He's not home. He's staying at a friend's."

"I'll come back later."

"He won't be home tonight."

"I'll come back tomorrow."

"He won't be here to see you, Levi. I'm asking nicely for the last time, leave or I'll be forced to call the police."

He wasn't getting anywhere with this, and knew, by the stubborn stance and solid stare, he wouldn't get anywhere in this argument either. He chewed on the side of his tongue to keep from throwing an insult. Instead, he nodded his head, shoving his hands in his pockets as he walked over to the threshold of the fence to leave.

Now more than ever, he knew to trust his initial feeling. Something was up, something had to be wrong, and he wouldn't let this go until he find out just what that something was. He felt Grisha's eyes boring into his back, even after he disappeared from view. He'd have to come back another time, when Grisha wasn't home. He couldn't chance getting caught again. If he were, he'd probably end up in a jail cell over night and a restraining order tagged to his forehead by morning.

Levi knew Carla's husband was a private practice doctor. With that much knowledge, it would be a simple call to his office to request his availability for an 'appointment'. From there he could, knowing his work schedule, pry a bit deeper into the mystery shrouding the home.

With his mind made up, and plan decided upon, Levi refused to give any further reflection on the consequences or stupidity of his decision and future actions.

Levi waited until he watched Grisha physically leave for the day, along with a 15 minute buffer, before he even thought about moving into view. Walking up to the house, he glanced about and pulled the paper clip from his pocket, quickly straightening it out. Reaching the knob, he wasted no time in picking the lock as effectively as possible.

This little trick was certainly a skill he wouldn't say he was necessarily proud of, but it came in handy more times than he could count. Especially when he had still been living with his parents. It wasn't a rarity to lock him out of the home after he spent too much time away with Eren and his mother.

With a click and turn of the knob, he made his way in and quietly shut the door behind him, unaware of the curtain next door snapping shut across the street of the neighbors window.

The home was in worse shape than he thought. The familiar smell of cleaner replaced by the stale air and dust. The living room in particular was a mess of empty spirits bottles and glasses, papers scattered about on the coffee table. Stepping through each room on the first floor, his stomach dropped at how familiar yet unfamiliar everything was at the same time.

How his memories that once were so vivid of a bright home with radiant smiles and comforting warmth now exuded nothing but a dull and empty chill. Photos that once decorated the wall, end tables and shelves, were either missing altogether or overturned. Carla had always kept photos of her family in each room, especially of her son. Levi could understand it being painful to have photos of the deceased mother and wife about, but why were Eren's taken down as well?

That lingering sense of dread washed over him as he made his way up the stairs to where he knew Eren's room was kept. Each creak of the steps beneath him drowned by his heartbeat, growing louder to reverberate through his chest to his ears. The hallway was empty, the doors were all shut. It didn't take long to go down the short narrow hallway to stand in front of Eren's bedroom door.

Would Grisha really leave a ten year old boy home alone to his own devices? He had to remind himself, if he didn't see any sign of Eren, Grisha could had very well been telling the truth when he said the kid was staying at a friend's place.

Finger twitching outward to grip the knob, he turned and pressed the door in slowly. He didn't realize he closed his eyes until he felt the door stop against the hinges. Questions rose in his mind, again, about how outrageously this situation really was. He was breaking and entering, into a home, because he didn't 'feel' right.

Releasing a tense sigh, he stepped into the room and opened his eyes. The dim lit room looked to be a mess, as would be expected of a brat his age, but it was too difficult to see. The only window in the room, covered with a heavy drape which blocked the majority of the light from illuminating the room.

Fumbling his hand against the right wall, next to the doorway, he felt for the switch and flicked it up. As soon as the light flicked on, he realized, his actions might very well be justified. Without proper lighting the room just appeared sloppy, but the tale told when the lights revealed the utter chaos and disarray told differently.

Blankets and pillows, which he remembered to be so meticulously made every morning lay scattered on the floor. Blanket a twisted mess stretched across the room, next to it shards of the shattered lamp that once sat on the short dresser. The painted surface, he distinctly remembered, once had a cowboy motif  
Illustrated upon it, now broken in chunks of glass. Toys and pictures, broken pieces of glass and plastic strewn about, it look like a bad movie scene after a struggle.

His heart beat was quickly drowned out by the sound of his voice, sharp and piercing through the silent home, "Eren?"

With another shout of his name, he rushed through the hallway, checking every room. Just what the hell happened?

"Eren?!"

Every empty room further served to fuel the rising panic. It was after checking the last room, he thought over where he could possibly be. He check every room in the home, everything except…. something clicked in his mind. Grisha had snapped at him yesterday when he was staring through the basement window. In the basement, was he there?

He took the steps downstairs in a rush, two and three steps at a time, holding the rail to prevent himself from falling down head first. He pivoted with his foot and used his arm on the end of the rail to spin him around the last step and propel him forward to the kitchen. The door to the basement, his feet subconsciously led him to it.

He tried to rip it open, but found the door to be locked. Fishing around for his paper clip, he fumbled and cursed, "Eren?! Eren are you down there?"

He prayed he was wrong, he prayed and prayed over and over. This was just a bad nightmare. Eren was really home, safe sound, comfortable as his father read him a story, tucking him into sleep. This was just a silly night terror he would wake up from.

"Fuck. Please tell me I'm wrong," with a growl of aggravation, he dropped the clip. The adrenaline packed in his veins, he reeled his foot back and slammed it into the door in frustration, before retrieving the clip. His second attempt a success, he tore open the door.

As the door swung open, the backlight behind him draping over each step and receding into pitch black darkness, the buildup, all the momentum he had left fueling him, burned dry. The possible reality bleed the warm blood from his veins and suffocated the air in his lungs. The musty scent, damp and faint remnants of mold swept him like a cold draft.

His limbs suddenly felt like lead. The idea that Eren was down here, he realized, he didn't want to face it. He didn't want to acknowledge it as a possibility. Even as he caught his breath and stepped forward, he convinced himself this was just a bad nightmare. Once again, he told himself the room upstairs was in order, clean, a happy, healthy ten year old boy still resting in the crumpled sheets and warm comforter of his bed.

Each step, he felt less sure of himself. As the black shadowed encircled his foot, he fought himself from drawing it back. Crossing past this line, he begged whatever god had forsaken him, for so many years before he gained freedom, had given Eren all his un-acquired blessings.

Another breath, a sharp in-take and long exhale, he descended.

"Eren…," his voice was barely above a rasped whisper. He had to clear his throat and rub at the skin to get his voice to work properly for him again.

"Eren?"

His foot connected with the concrete floor, his eyes squinting as they adjusted to the darkened room. The light from the small block windows did little to help, but he could faintly make out the outlines and shapes around him. Once shape in particular stood out amongst the rest.

Something curled beneath the window, the small scuff of movement alerting him to the spot. He held his breath, forcing his ears to pop as he listened carefully for any sounds, looking at the bundle intently for any movement. Once more… One more time.

'Please fucking Christ don't be him.'

"E-Eren?"

Another scuff, a subtle movement flickered in his vision, the object curled in further on itself… No, not an object… "Fucking shit… Fuck! Eren!"

He stumbled as he lurched forward, quickly dropping to his knees when he crossed the small space to the small figure. The softest groan emitted from the boy, and Levi held his hands up, unsure of what to do, afraid to touch him, frighten him. Afraid to make physical contact and truly force himself to realize this was no dream.

"Eren, Eren i-it's me. It's… fuck… you probably don't…," Levi slowly reached down to gather Eren's wrists in his hands, trying to urge the boy to sit up, trying to get him to move where he could better assess him.

"I won't hurt you, I'll get you out of here. We have to get you out of here..."

His eyes darted left and right, back and forth, carefully pulling Eren to him. The boy weakly protested the movement, but ultimately didn't have the strength to fight back as Levi gathered the too thin boy in his arms.

He felt all too frail, Levi glanced over him as best he could in the dim light, and his stomach knotted in revulsion at his state. His bones were far too visible for an age he was supposed to be just shying away from a chubby physique, he was obviously malnourished. His right hand was covered in teeth marks, and dried blood. Putting the two together, he could have vomited at the thought of the boy so hungry he tore at his own flesh.

His hair was long and matted, he could only imagine how filthy the boy had to be, pushing it back he felt how warm Eren's forehead felt beneath his palm. A fever heating his skin left him clammy and shivering. He was breathing so lightly, Levi felt the need to place his fingers in front of his lips and confirm he was really still breathing. His fingertips brushed the dried chapped lips as weak short puffs of air hit the pads so delicately he could easily convince himself he were imagining it.

"Kid open your eyes," Levi begged him between his teeth.

His brows drew forward, tilting his head backwards to stare up at the ceiling, searching the rafters for some trace of forgiveness, "Carla, I'm so sorry. I fucking… I should have watched him. I shouldn't have let this happen, fuck. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

Levi dropped his gaze back down to the boy, holding him tighter as he felt the weak heart beat against the boy's ribcage, "Eren, open your eyes. Eren, Please. Eren… come on… please fucking open your eyes kid."

He felt the hairs at the base of his neck stand of edge as he called Eren's name over and over again. Desperate to get any type of response out of him, green eyes, mere slits, peered up at him through heavy lids but they grew wider. Slowly they grew wider, and Levi prompted him further. Just open your eyes a bit more, he continued. At the top of the stairs a silhouetted stood, casting an elongated shadow at the base of the staircase through the box of light from the door way on the floor, black against the back lit lighting.

Eren's lips edged to open, shaking as they strained to move, a crack in his throat from a dry whine as he tried to use his voice.

"That's it Eren, wake up."

"Eren, I'm here now."

"Eren."

"Eren!"

"Wake up!"

"Wake! Up!"

Eren shot forward in the bed, his lungs on fire as the air forced itself in and out of his lungs hastily. His eyes wide, he jolted at the touch on his shoulder, slamming his back against the wall from the jerky movement.

What was going on? What was… What was that dream? That nightmare? Why was it so real, it was so fucking real, why?

His chest rose and fell in quick succession as he focused on the man in front of him, "Y-You… You were. I…"  
Eren brought his palms to his face and let out a long shuddering breath, "Y-You found me, you found me there, in the basement. Levi, it was you. It was you all along, why…?"

"Why didn't you fucking tell me?"

Undeterred by his reaction, and completely ignoring the bombardment of questions, Levi kneeled further onto the bed, far enough to pull Eren to his chest.

Rather than fight it Eren wrapped his own arms around the man's neck, trying to calm himself down. Levi stroked his back, trying to sooth him, told him it wasn't the time to talk, and perhaps he was right. Eren, at the moment, was in no condition to begin this conversation. The rawness of what he felt, so unbelievably tangible, left him reeling, confused.

Eren could remember exactly how Levi felt when he found him, everything. He didn't understand how, he didn't know why, but he knew, he knew.

"Levi," Eren spoke against his shoulder, eyes focused on the wall opposite of him, "It wasn't your fault. It was never your fault."

He felt Levi's arms tighten around him, the hitch of breath the only other evidence his words had reached him. Suddenly, he felt calmer, like a weight was lifted. Some unseen force, pulled off his shoulders. And despite the hellish nightmare that he just had he felt a smile, sincerely, pulling at his lips, gaze softening as he lifted his right hand into view. Eyes finding the white scars where his teeth left marks he'd somehow never noticed before.  
"It's not your fault."


End file.
